NETWORK

Saturday, March 24, 2007

NARRATOR This story is about Howard Beale who was the network news anchorman on UBS-TV --

A BANK OF FOUR COLOR TELEVISION ON MONITORS

It is 7:14 P.M., Monday, September 22, 1975, and we arewatching the network news programs on CBS, NBC, ABC andUBS-TV, the network of our story. The AUDIO is OFF;and head shots of WALTER CRONKITE, JOHN CHANCELLOR,HOWARD K. SMITH and HARRY REASONER, and of course,the anchorman of our network, HOWARD BEALE, silentlyflit and flicker across the four television screens,interspersed with the news of the day -- PresidentFord's new Energy Program, a hearing on Patty Hearst'sbail, truce violations in Beirut, busing trouble inBoston.... NARRATION continues OVER --

NARRATOR -- in his time, Howard Beale had been a mandarin of television, the grand old man of news, with a HUT rating of 16 and a 28 audience share --

CAMERA MOVES IN to isolate HOWARD BEALE, who iseverything an anchorman should be -- 58 years oldsilver-haired, magisterial, dignified to the point ofdivinity. NARRATION continues OVER --

NARRATOR -- in 1969, however, he fell to a 22 share, and, by 1972, he was down to a 15 share. In 1973, his wife died, and he was left a childless widower with an 8 rating and a 12 share. He became morose and isolated, began to drink heavily, and, on September 22, 1975, he was fired, effective in two weeks. The news was broken to him by Max Schumacher --

2. EXT. 5TH AVE. SOUTH OF 57TH STREET - NIGHT

11:30 P.M. The area is deserted except for a fewSTROLLERS window-shopping the department stores.And way down near 55th Street, TWO roaring drunk middle-aged men, HOWARD BEALE and MAX SCHUMACHER, reelingalong and hooting it up. NARRATION continues OVER --

NARRATOR -- who was president of the News Division at UBS and an old friend. The two men got properly pissed --

CLOSER SHOT of HOWARD and MAX (who is a craggy,lumbering, rough-hewn, 51-year-old man), thoroughlyplastered and on a drunken laughing jag --

HOWARD (clutching the corner mailbox to keep from falling) When was this?

MAX 1951 --

HOWARD I was at CBS with Ed Murrow in 1951. Didn't you join Murrow in 1951? --

MAX Must've been 1950 then. I was at NBC. Morning News. Associate producer. I was a kid, twenty-six years old. Anyway, they were building the lower level on the George Washington Bridge, and we were doing a remote there. Except nobody told me! --

For some reason, this knocks them out. HOWARD, wheezingwith suppressed laughter, clutches the mailbox. MAX hasto shout to get the rest of the story out --

MAX -- ten after seven in the morning -- I get a call -- "Where the hell are you? -- You're supposed to be on the George Washington Bridge!" -- I jump out of bed -- throw my raincoat over my pajamas -- run down the stairs -- I get out in the street -- I flag a cab -- I jump in -- I say: "Take me to the middle of the George Washington Bridge!" --

It's too much again. The TWO MEN dissolve into silentwheezing spasms of laughter --

MAX (tears streaming down his cheeks) -- the driver turns around -- he says -- don't do it, buddy -- (so weak now he can barely talk) -- he says -- you're a young man -- you got your whole life ahead of you --

He can't go on. He stomps around on the sidewalk.HOWARD clutches the mailbox.

3. INT. A BAR - 3:00 A.M.

Any bar. Mostly empty. MAX and HOWARD in a booth,so sodden drunk they are sober --

HOWARD I'm going to kill myself --

MAX Oh, shit, Howard --

HOWARD I'm going to blow my brains out right on the air, right in the middle of the seven o'clock news.

MAX You'll get a hell of a rating, I'll tell you that, a fifty share easy --

HOWARD You think so?

MAX We could make a series out of it. Suicide of the Week. Hell, why limit ourselves? Execution of the Week -- the Madame Defarge Show! Every Sunday night, bring your knitting and watch somebody get guillotined, hung, electrocuted, gassed. For a logo, we'll have some brute with a black hood over his head. Think of the spin-offs -- Rape of the Week --

HOWARD (beginning to get caught up in the idea) Terrorist of the Week?

MAX Beautiful!

HOWARD How about Coliseum '74? Every week we throw some Christians to the lions! --

MAX Fantastic! The Death Hour! I love it! Suicides, assassinations, mad bombers, Mafia hitmen, murder in the barbershop, human sacrifices in witches' covens, automobile smashups. The Death Hour! A great Sunday night show for the whole family. We'll wipe fucking Disney right off the air --

They snigger and snort. HOWARD lays his head down onthe booth's table and verges on sleep --

4. INT. HOWARD'S BEDROOM - 4:30 A.M. - DARK

HOWARD, fully clothed, sprawled asleep on his still-covered bed in the dark bedroom. Suddenly, he sits boltupright, SCREAMING out against unseen terrors --

The HOUSEKEEPER, unbuttoning her coat, is greeted bythe sound of a raucous clock ALARM, relentlesslyBUZZING O.S. She crosses the --

INT. LIVING ROOM

-- and opens the blinds letting in an eruption ofdaylight. The shrill BUZZING getting louder, sheproceeds into the --

INT. BACK FOYER

-- where she pauses to look into the bedroom, the doorbeing ajar; the BUZZING is coming from here --

HOUSEKEEPER'S P.O.V -- HOWARD BEALE,

still wearing the clothes he wore last night, curledin a position of fetal helplessness on the floor inthe far corner of the room --

HOUSEKEEPER (after a moment) Are you all right, Mr. Beale?

HOWARD (opens one eye) I'm fine, thank you, Mrs. Merryman --

With some effort, he contrives to get to his feet asthe HOUSEKEEPER crosses to the alarm clock and turnsit off --

6. CREDITS AND MUSIC ERUPT ONTO THE SCREEN

TITLE: "N E T W O R K"

UNDER AND INTERSPERSED WITH CREDITS, a montage ofscenes, occasionally audible, on this seeminglyroutine day --

7. INT. HOWARD BEALE'S OFFICE - 5TH FLOOR - 9:20 A.M.

A small, unpretentious office, cluttered with books,magazines, periodicals, photographs and awards on thewalls, various mementos here and there. HOWARD(necktied and in shirtsleeves), behind his desk,rattling away his copy for that evening's broadcaston his typewriter -- pauses to pour himself a quickshot of Scotch --

8. INT. THE NIGHTLY NEWS ROOM - ROOM 517 - 10:30 A.M.

The common room off which Howard's office debouches. Alarge room compactly filled with the desks of producers,associate producers, head writer and writers, productionassistants, etc. The walls are festooned like bulletinboards with sheaves of newspaper pages and cutouts andreams of wire releases (there are two wire machines in acorner). Large blowups of HOWARD BEALE are prominentlydisplayed. There are small, shelved libraries of books,directories and magazines here and there. And theever-present bank of four television monitors; and,Since it is 10:30 A.M., Tuesday, September 23, 1975,and, since the AUDIO is OFF, the screens silentlyflicker with whatever was on that day at that time.HOWARD comes out of his office, crosses through thegeneral HUM of informal industry, an occasionalTYPEWRITER CLACKING, a more than occasional phoneringing, as the Nightly News Room PERSONNEL, all intheir 20's and 30's, move, MURMUR, confer about theirbusinesses. HOWARD BEALE makes for a ledge of referencebooks to check out some fact. He spread the referencebook out on an unoccupied desk. SOMEONE in b.g. tellshim he's wanted on the phone. He nods, takes the callat the desk he is at. Throughout, he belts away at hisglass of booze --

Another smallish office debouching off the main roomlike Howard's, absolutely jammed with nine PEOPLE, acouple of them standing, the others sitting whereverthey can. The executive producer, HARRY HUNTER (early40's), is behind the desk. HOWARD BEALE sits on thesmall, Finnish modern couch, flanked by an ASSOCIATEPRODUCER and a MAN from the Graphics Department. Asidefrom BEALE and HUNTER, everybody else is in their 20'sor early 30's, and, with the same exceptions, they'reall casually dressed. This is the daily run-downmeeting at which the schedule for that evening'sbroadcast is roughed out, and it sounds something likethis --

HOWARD (reaching for the bottle of booze on HUNTER'S desk to refill his glass) -- let's do the Lennon deportation at the end of three --

HARRY HUNTER That strong enough to bump?

HOWARD (sipping his booze) In one then, I'll do a lead on Sarah Jane Moore to Mayberry in San Francisco --

LOOKING INTO the small network-news make-up room whereHOWARD BEALE is standing, Kleenex tucked into his shirtcollar, getting a few last whisks from the MAKE-UPLADY. Finished, HOWARD pulls the Kleenex from hiscollar, takes a last sip from a glass of booze on themake-up shelf, gathers his papers and exits, turns andenters --

The clock wall reads: 6:30. Typical control room. Aroom-length double bank of television monitors includingtwo color monitor screens, the show monitor and thepre-set monitor. Before this array of TV screens sitsthe DIRECTOR, flanked on his left by the PRODUCTIONASSISTANT (GIRL) who stop-watches the show, and on hisright by the TECHNICAL DIRECTOR who operates a specialboard of buttons and knobs. (On the TECHNICALDIRECTOR's right sits the LIGHTING DIRECTOR). At themoment, the show monitor has the network's Washingtoncorrespondent, JACK SNOWDEN, doing a follow-up on theattempted assassination of President Ford in SanFrancisco --

SNOWDEN (ON MONITOR) -- the first attempt on President Ford's life was eighteen days ago -- and again yesterday in San Francisco --

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) -- I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to blow my brains out right on this program a week from today --

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT (frowning and very puzzled indeed by this diversion from the script) -- ten seconds to commercial --

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) -- so tune in next Tuesday. That'll give the public relations people a week to promote the show, and we ought to get a hell of a rating with that, a fifty share easy --

A bewildered PRODUCTION ASSISTANT nudges the DIRECTOR,who wheels back to his mike --

DIRECTOR (into mike) -- and --

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT (to the DIRECTOR) Listen, did you hear that? --

DIRECTOR Take VTA.

The monitor screen erupts into a commercial for catfood.

AUDIO MAN (leaning in from his glassed-in cubicle) What was that about?

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT (to the DIRECTOR) Howard just said he was going to blow his brains out next Tuesday.

DIRECTOR What're you talking about?

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT Didn't you hear him? He just said --

HARRY HUNTER What's wrong now?

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT Howard just said he was going to kill himself next Tuesday.

HARRY HUNTER What do you mean Howard just said he was going to kill himself next Tuesday?

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT (nervously riffling through her script) He was supposed to do a tag on Ron Nesson and into commercial --

AUDIO MAN (from his doorway) He said tune in next Tuesday, I'm going to shoot myself --

Everybody's attention is now on the double bank ofblack-and-white monitor screens showing various partsof the studio, all of which show agitated behavior.Several of the screens show HOWARD at his desk invehement discussion with a clearly startled FLOORMANAGER with headset and no less startled ASSOCIATE

PRODUCER --

DIRECTOR (on mike to FLOOR MANAGER) What the hell's going on?

On the pre-set monitor screen, the FLOOR MANAGERwith headset looks up --

FLOOR MANAGER (ON SCREEN) (voice booming into the control room) I don't know. He just said he was going to blow his brains out --

DIRECTOR (into mike) What the hell's this all about, Howard?

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) (shouting at the floor PERSONNEL gathering around him) Will you get the hell out of here? We'll be back on air in a couple of seconds!

DIRECTOR (roaring into the mike) What the fuck's going on, Howard?

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) I can't hear you --

DIRECTOR

(bawling at the AUDIO MAN) Put the studio mike on!

AUDIO MAN We're back on in eleven seconds --

SLOCUM (on floor) They want to know what the fuck is going on, Howard.

HOWARD (on monitor) I can't hear you.

DIRECTOR (bawling at the Audio man) Put the studio mike on!

AUDIO MAN We're back on in eleven seconds.

ASSOCIATE PRODUCER Harry, I think we better get him off --

HARRY HUNTER (roaring at the Audio Man) Turn his mike off!

AUDIO MAN (now back in the control room) What the hell's going on?

HARRY HUNTER (raging) Turn the fucking sound off, you stupid son of a bitch! This is going out live!

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT (stop-watching) Three -- two -- one --

DIRECTOR Take 2 --

At which point, the TECHNICAL DIRECTOR pushes a button;the jangling cat food commercial flips off the showmonitor to be instantly replaced by a scene of gatheringbedlam around HOWARD'S desk. The AUDIO MAN flees inpanic back to the cubicle to turn off the audio but notbefore HARRY HUNTER and the DIRECTOR going out live to67 affiliates can be heard booming:

HARRY HUNTER Chrissakes! Black it out! This is going out live to sixty-seven fucking affiliates ! Shit!

The FLOOR MANAGER and the ASSOCIATE PRODUCER andnow an ELECTRICIAN are trying to pull HOWARD away fromhis desk and HOWARD is trying to hit anybody he canwith an ineffective right hand haymaker --

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) Get the fuck away from me!

OTHER VOICES (ON MONITOR) (coming from all directions) -- cut the show! -- -- get him out of there! -- -- go to standby! -- -- for Chrissakes, you stupid --

MAX'S PHONE RINGS --

MAX (grabs the phone) How the hell do I know? -- (he hangs up, seizes another phone, barks:) Give me the network news control room!

On the MONITOR SCREEN, hysteria is clearly dominating.The SCREEN has suddenly leaped into a fragment of thejust-done cat food COMMERCIAL, then a jarring shot ofthe bedlam of the studio floor. This particular cameraseems unattended as it begins to PAN dementedly backand forth showing the confusion on the studio floor.Then abruptly the SCREEN is filled with Vice Presidentdesignate Nelson Rockefeller testifying before theSenate Rules Committee --

MAX (shouting into phone) Black it out!

The SCREEN abruptly goes into BLACK as MAX slashes hisphone back into its cradle. His PHONE promptly RINGSagain, but MAX is already headed for the door. TheSCREEN goes into STANDBY. His SQUAWK BOX suddenlyblares --

SQUAWK BOX What the hell happened, Max? --

MAX (shouting as he exits) How the hell do I know? I'm going down now!

He strides into --

14. INT. ROOM 509 - COMMON ROOM OF NEWS

EXECUTIVE OFFICES

A large common room where all the SECRETARIES of theNews Division EXECUTIVES have their desks. It is emptynow except for one SECRETARY just now putting the coveron her typewriter. MAX strides through and exitsinto --

15. INT. FIFTH FLOOR CORRIDOR

A long institutional corridor -- part of an endlessmaze of similar corridors -- with offices and technicalrooms debouching on both sides. The corridor hasbegun to fill up with video-tape OPERATORS and otherNews Division PERSONNEL who happen to be working late-- all of whom are either wondering what happened orare telling others what happened. MAX yanks an exitdoor open and disappears down a flight of steps toemerge into --

16. INT. FOURTH FLOOR CORRIDOR

-- which leads directly to the doors for the controlroom and for the studio. Coming out of the controlroom is the TECHNICAL DIRECTOR, who, on spotting MAXstriding down the corridor to him, says --

TECHNICAL DIRECTOR Jesus Christ, Mr. Schumacher! --

He follows MAX into the --

17. INT. STUDIO

Everything seems to have quieted a bit, the hysteriadown to mumbles and murmurs and occasional sounds oflaughter. TELEPHONES are shrilly and incessantlyRINGING. In the far corner of the studio sits HOWARDBEALE surrounded by HARRY HUNTER, the DIRECTOR, theASSOCIATE PRODUCER, the PRODUCTION ASSISTANT, and theFLOOR MANAGER. CAMERAMEN, GRIPS and other FLOORPERSONNEL are gathered in a FLUX of little clumps aroundthe studio murmuring and muttering and giggling over thewhole absurd episode MAX heads straight for the GROUParound HOWARD. They part to let him in --

HARRY HUNTER (to MAX) Tom Cabell wants you to call as soon as you come in --

MAX nods, stares at HOWARD --

VOICE (O.S.) Harry! Joe Sweeney on the phone! --

HARRY HUNTER (bawls back) I'm not taking any more calls! Tell them Mr. Schumacher's here! They can talk to him!

MAX (staring at HOWARD) Howard, you have got to be out of your ever-loving mind. Are you drunk? (to the others) How much boozing has he been doing today?

FRANK HACKETT, Executive Senior Vice President of thenetwork, 41 years old, one of the new cool young breedof management/merchandising executives, wearing a tuxedo-- (he had been pulled out of a dinner party inWestchester by this unfortunate business) -- comes outof the elevator and turns briskly into --

19. INT. FIFTH FLOOR CORRIDOR

-- which is clotted with network EXECUTIVES of assortedsizes and ages. HACKETT, en route to Room 509, whichis clearly the humming hub of activity up here, pausesto comment to one of the EXECUTIVES --

HACKETT Lou, can't we clear out that downstairs lobby? There must be a hundred people down there, every TV station and wire service in the city. I could barely get in --

LOU How'm I going to clear them out, Frank?

HACKETT murmurs and peels his way into --

20. INT. ROOM 509 - EXECUTIVES' OFFICES OF THE NEWS DIVISION

HACKETT enters the common room, off which debouch theoffices of the President of News (MAX SCHUMACHER), theVP News Division (ROBERT MCDONOUGH), the VP PublicRelations News Division (MILTON STEINMAN), the VP LegalAffairs News Division (WALTER GIANINI), VP OwnedStations News (EMIL DUBROVNIK), General Manager News,Radio (MICHAEL SANDIES) -- all of whom are here and anumber of other network EXECUTIVES. The VP Sales (JOEDONNELLY) is just taking the phone from the VP NewsSales (RICHMOND KETTERING) who is seated at the desk ofthe secretary for VP Public Relations News Division --

DONNELLY (on phone) -- how many spots were wiped out? --

HACKETT (to GIANINI, who is seated at another secretary's desk studying a typescript of the aborted news show) Anything litigable? --

GIANINI Not so far --

DONNELLY (on phone) -- We had to abort the show. Ed, what else could we do? We'll make good, don't worry about it --

HACKETT (to ARTHUR ZANGWILL, VP Standards and Practices, now coming out of MAX's office) Is Nelson in there?

TIM HALLOWAY Secretary of State Henry Kissinger made a forceful address before the United Nations General Assembly --

HACKETT (to MAX) How are we handling it?

MAX Halloway's going to make a brief statement at the end of the show to the effect Howard's been under great personal stress, et cetera

HACKETT reaches to click off the bank of monitorscreens. They abruptly go black.

HACKETT (on phone) I'll call you back, John. (returns the phone to its cradle, regards the gathered EXECUTIVES) All right. We've got a stockholders' meeting tomorrow at which we're going to announce the restructuring of management plan, and I don't want this grotesque incident to interfere with that. I'll suggest Mr. Ruddy open with a short statement washing this whole thing off, and, you, Max, better have some answers in case some of those nuts that always come to stockholders' meetings --

MAX (back to leaning against the wall) Mr. Beale has been under great personal and professional pressures --

HACKETT (exploding) I've got some goddam surprises for you too, Schumacher! I've had it up to here with your cruddy division and its annual thirty-three million dollar deficit! --

CHANEY All right, take it easy. Right now, how' re we going to get Beale out of here? I understand there's at least a hundred reporters and camera crewsings --

HERRON (buzzing the projectionist) Diana asked if she could sit in on this --

MAX Fine -- (sits, calls to DIANA) How's it going?

DIANA shrugs, smiles. The lights in the room go down.A shaft of light shoots out from the projection room.The PHONE at MAX's elbow BUZZES. HE picks it up --

MAX (murmurs into phone) Max Schumacher -- I'm glad I got you, John. Listen, I got into a hassle with Frank Hackett last night over the Howard Beale thing, and he made a crack about the stockholders' meeting this afternoon. He said something about having some surprises for me. Is there something going on, John, I don't know about? ... John, I'm counting on you and Mr. Ruddy to back me up against that son of a bitch Okay, see you this afternoon --

He hangs up, leans back, watches the documentary filmwhich has just begun. ON SCREEN, a handsome blackwoman in her early 30's --

MAX Who's that, Laureen Hobbs?

HERRON Yeah.

-- is sitting in a typical panel discussion grouping,flanked by three MEN and a WOMAN, two white, twoblack, all very urban guerilla, in fatigues, sunglasses and combat boots. MISS HOBBS looks calmlyinto camera and says:

LAUREEN HOBBS (ON SCREEN) The Communist Party believes that the most pressing political necessity today is the consolidation of the revolutionary, radical and democratic movements into a United Front --

LAUREEN HOBBS (ON SCREEN) (in b.g.) Repression is the response of an increasingly desperate, imperialist ruling clique. Indeed, the entire apparatus of the bourgeois-democratic state especially its judicial systems and its prisons is disintegrating --

LAUREEN HOBBS (ON SCREEN) (in b.g.) The fascist thrust must be resisted in its incipient stages by the broadest possible coalition --

25. INT. SCREENING ROOM 7 - TWENTY MINUTES LATER

Room still dark. ON SCREEN, NUMBERED WHITE LEADER isrolling down --

HERRON What we're going to see now is something really sensational. The Flagstaff Independent Bank in Arizona was ripped off last week by a terrorist group called the Ecumenical Liberation Army, and they themselves actually took movies of the rip-off while they were ripping it off. It's in black and white, but wait'll you see it --

The SCREEN suddenly erupts into film of the interiorof a bank being entered in the wake of THREE MEN, twoof them black, and TWO WOMEN, one black and one white.They disperse to various parts of the bank as if theywere here on legitimate business --

DIANA The Ecumenical Liberation Army -- is that the one that kidnapped Patty Hearst?

HERRON No, that's the Symbionese Liberation Army. This is the Ecumenical Liberation Army. They're the ones who kidnapped Mary Ann Gifford three weeks ago. There's a hell of a lot of liberation armies in the revolutionary underground and a lot of kidnapped heiresses. That's Mary Ann Gifford --

This last in reference to the young white woman onscreen who is lugging a shopping bag as she joins aline at a teller's window --

DIANA You mean, they actually shot this film while they were ripping off the bank?

HERRON Yeah, wait'll you see it. I don't know whether to edit or leave it raw like this. That's the Great Ahmed Khan; he's the leader --

ON SCREEN, the film has gone out of focus a couple oftimes and bounced meaninglessly around the bank andfinally settled on a large, powerful black man at oneof the desks, presumably writing out a series ofdeposit slips --

DIANA This is terrific stuff. Where did you get it?

HERRON I got everything through Laureen Hobbs. She's my contact for all this stuff.

DIANA I thought she was straight Communist Party.

HERRON Right. But she's trying to unify all the factions in the underground, so she knows everybody.

ON SCREEN, the CAMERA has whooshed amateurishly about,unfocuses and focuses again to pick up MARY ANN GIFFORDbending over her shopping bag and pulling out a Czechservice submachine gun 9 Parabellum which she points tothe ceiling and apparently fires; the FILM is silent,but the reactions of everyone around suggest clearlysomething was fired. The FILM gets fragmented andpanicky about here, as does the activity in the bank.The PHONE at MAX's elbow BUZZES. MAX picks it up.

MAX (on the phone, while in b.g. a bank hold- up goes on screen) Yeah? ... All right, put him on --

26. INT. THE NIGHTLY NEWS ROOM - ROOM 517

HARRY HUNTER, on phone, is using an empty desk in themain room. Normal news room activity in b.g. --

The silent footage of the frenetic bank robbery isstill going on in b.g.

MAX (on phone) Oh, come on, Howard --

29. INT. HOWARD'S OFFICE

HOWARD (on phone) I don't mean the whole show. I'd just like to come on, make some kind of brief farewell statement and then turn the show over to Jack Snowden. I have eleven years at this network, Max. I have some standing in this industry. I don't want to go out like a clown. It'll be simple and dignified. You and Harry can check the copy

30. INT. NIGHTLY NEWS ROOM

ACROSS HARRY HUNTER on phone, looking through the opendoor of HOWARD's office to HOWARD at his desk in b.g.

HARRY HUNTER (on phone) -- I think it'll take the strain off the show, Max. How much time do you want, Howard?

HOWARD (in b.g., on phone) A minute forty-five, maybe two

HARRY HUNTER All right, I'll give you two on the top, then we'll go to Jack Snowden with the Kissinger UN speech --

31. INT. SCREENING ROOM 7

The show is over, the room lights are on. In b.g.,DIANA and HERRON stand, murmur to each other --

MAX (on phone) And no booze today, Howard --

In b.g., DIANA and HERRON move for the door, wave good-byes. MAX waves slackly in return. He can't helpnoticing as DIANA leaves that she has the mostbeautiful ass ever seen on a VP Programs --

32. INT. HOWARD'S OFFICE

HOWARD (on phone) No booze --

And hangs up. For a moment, he just sits, scowling andmaking curious little grimaces. Then he stands,removes his jacket, dumps it on a chair. He rolls hissleeves up and suddenly makes a strange little GRUNT.He sits behind his desk, fits a piece of paper intothe machine and then, again, suddenly, he makes astrange little GROWL --

33. INT. NIGHTLY NEWS ROOM

Our PRODUCTION ASSISTANT, remembered perhaps from thecontrol room scene, passes HOWARD's open door and isgiven pause by the strange little noises coming fromHOWARD's office. She stands in the doorway a momentwatching HOWARD GRUNTING, GROWLING and SNARLING as heCLACKS away at the typewriter --

DIANA and HERRON come out of one of the elevators andturn left to the glass doors marked: DEPARTMENT OFPROGRAMMING. They continue into --

35. INT. PROGRAMMING DEPARTMENT - RECEPTION AREA

(Needless to say, there is no one at the receptionist'sdesk.) DIANA and HERRON head down --

36. INT. PROGRAMMING DEPARTMENT - CORRIDOR

DIANA pauses en route to lean into one of the offices --

DIANA George, can you come in my office for a minute?

She and HERRON continue on, turn into --

37. INT. PROGRAMMING DEPARTMENT - COMMON ROOM

Where the SECRETARIES are all slaving away, readingmagazines and chatting among themselves. An occasionalPHONE RINGS. At the far end of the room, a chunkyWOMAN in her late 30's is instructing her SECRETARY insomething. DIANA hails her --

DIANA Barbara, is Tommy around anywhere?

BARBARA (in b.g.) I think so.

DIANA I'd like to see the two of you for a moment --

She leads HERRON now into --

38. INT. DIANA'S SECRETARY'S OFFICE

The SECRETARY hands a sheaf of telephone messages toDIANA which she carries with her into --

39. INT. DIANA'S OFFICE

DIANA enters, followed by HERRON. She sits, skimsthrough her messages. The office is executive-size,windows looking out on the canyons of glass and stoneskyscrapers on Sixth Avenue, desk piled high withscripts. GEORGE BOSCH (VP Program Development EastCoast), a slight, balding man of 39, enters the office,nods to HERRON, takes a seat; and is immediatelyfollowed by BARBARA SCHLESINGER (Head of the StoryDepartment), the chunky lady just called in by DIANA,and TOMMY PELLEGRINO (Assistant VP Programs), 36,swarthy, coifed and mustachioed. They find seats onthe chairs, the small couch. HERRON remains standing --

DIANA (introducing) This is Bill Herron from our West Coast Special Programs Department -- Barbara Schlesinger -- George Bosch -- Tommy Pellegrino -- Look, I just saw some rough footage of a special Bill's doing on the revolutionary underground. Most of it's tedious stuff of Laureen Hobbs and four fatigue jackets muttering mutilated Marxism. But he's got about eight minutes of a bank robbery that is absolutely sensational. Authentic stuff. Actually shot while the robbery was going on. Remember the Mary Ann Gifford kidnapping? Well, it's that bunch of nuts. She's in the film shooting off machine guns. Really terrific footage. I think we can get a hell of a movie of the week out of it, maybe even a series.

PELLEGRINO A series out of what? What're we talking about?

DIANA Look, we've got a bunch of hobgoblin radicals called the Ecumenical Liberation Army who go around taking home movies of themselves robbing banks. Maybe they'll take movies of themselves kidnapping heiresses, hijacking 747's, bombing bridges, assassinating ambassadors. We'd open each week's segment with that authentic footage, hire a couple of writers to write some story behind that footage, and we've got ourselves a series.

BOSCH A series about a bunch of bank- robbing guerillas?

SCHLESINGER What're we going to call it -- the Mao Tse Tung Hour?

DIANA Why not? They've got Strike Force, Task Force, SWAT -- why not Che Guevara and his own little mod squad? Listen, I sent you all a concept analysis report yesterday. Did any of you read it? (apparently not) Well, in a nutshell, it said the American people are turning sullen. They've been clobbered on all sides by Vietnam, Watergate, the inflation, the depression. They've turned off, shot up, and they've fucked themselves limp. And nothing helps. Evil still triumphs over all, Christ is a dope-dealing pimp, even sin turned out to be impotent. The whole world seems to be going nuts and flipping off into space like an abandoned balloon. So -- this concept analysis report concludes -- the American people want somebody to articulate their rage for them. I've been telling you people since I took this job six months ago that I want angry shows. I don't want conventional programming on this network. I want counter-culture. I want anti-establishment.

She closes the door.

DIANA Now, I don't want to play butch boss with you people. But when I took over this department, it had the worst programming record in television history. This network hasn't one show in the top twenty. This network is an industry joke. We better start putting together one winner for next September. I want a show developed, based on the activities of a terrorist group. Joseph Stalin and his merry band of Bolsheviks. I want ideas from you people. And, by the way, the next time I send an audience research report around, you all better read it, or I'll sack the fucking lot of you, is that clear? (apparently, it is. She turns to HERRON) I'll be out on the coast in four weeks. Can you set up a meeting with Laureen Hobbs for me?

HERRON Sure.

40. INT. A BANQUET ROOM - NEW YORK HILTON - WEDNESDAY -3:00 P.M.

LONG SHOT. A stockholders' meeting. Standing roomonly. Some 200 STOCKHOLDERS seated in the audience;others standing around the walls. On the rostrum, aphalanx of UBS CORPORATE EXECUTIVES, seated in threerows, including EDWARD RUDDY, Chairman of the Board,the PRESIDENTS and SENIOR VICE-PRESIDENTS of the otherdivisions and other groups -- the UBS Records Group,the UBS Publishing Group, the UBS Theater Chain, etc.Representing the network are NELSON CHANEY and thedivisional heads -- GEORGE NICHOLS, President of theRadio Division; NORMAN MOLDANIAN, President OwnedStations; General Counsel WALTER AMUNDSEN, and, ofcourse, MAX SCHUMACHER, President of the News Division.FRANK HACKETT, Senior Executive Vice President UBS-TV,is at the lectern making the annual report --

HACKETT (in the droning manner of such reports) ... but the business of management is management; and, at the time C. C. and A. took control, the UBS-TV network was foundering with less than seven percent of national television revenues, most network programs being sold at station rates. I am therefore pleased to announce I am submitting to the Board of Directors a plan for the coordination of the main profit centers, and with the specific intention of making each division more responsive to management --

ANOTHER ANGLE SINGLING OUT MAX SCHUMACHER in the secondrow of the phalanx of EXECUTIVES, bored with theproceedings, and whispering to NELSON CHANEY seatedbeside him. INCLUDE in frame the 67 year old, silver-haired Brahmin of television, EDWARD RUDDY, who isseated in the front row. HACKETT in b.g. It is sometwenty minutes later --

HACKETT (reading from his report) ... point one. The division producing the lowest rate of return has been the News Division --

MAX suddenly begins paying attention --

HACKETT -- with its 98 million dollar budget and its average annual deficit of 32 million. To me, it is inconceivable such a wanton fiscal affront go unresisted --

ANOTHER ANGLE ACROSS HACKETT with a smoldering MAXSCHUMACHER in b.g. --

HACKETT -- The new plan calls for local news to be transferred to Owned Stations Divisions --

MAX in b.g., stares angrily down his row towards NORMANMOLDANIAN, who studiously avoids his eye --

HACKETT -- News-Radio would be transferred to the UBS Radio Division --

ACROSS MAX turning in his seat to scowl at GEORGENICHOLS in the row behind him --

MAX leaning forward trying to catch the eye of EDWARDRUDDY in the front row. RUDDY is staring stonilyahead --

HACKETT -- from an independent division to a department accountable to network --

MAX is about ready to blow his stack --

41. INT. BANQUET ROOM - NEW YORK HILTON - WEDNESDAY - 5:30 PM.

The stockholders' meeting is over. The floor is aswirling CRUSH of STOCKHOLDERS mingling with EXECUTIVES.MAX SCHUMACHER is elbowing his way through the crowdedaisle to get to where EDWARD RUDDY is chatting awaywith a COUPLE of STOCKHOLDERS --

MAX (to RUDDY) What was that all about, Ed? --

RUDDY (turning to MAX, urbane) This is not the time, Max.

MAX (barely containing himself) Why wasn't I told about this? Why was I led onto that podium and publicly guillotined in front of the stockholders? Goddammit, I spoke to John Wheeler this morning, and he assured me the News Division was safe. Are you trying to get me to resign? It's a hell of a way to do it.

RUDDY turns back to the clutch of STOCKHOLDERS aroundhim. MAX wheels away in a rage --

42. EXT. NEW YORK HILTON HOTEL - SIXTH AVENUE - DUSK

The Sixth Avenue entrance to the hotel. Taxis pullingin, disgorging PEOPLE; taxis pulling out with new fares.MAX comes striding out of the hotel, sore as a boil.PAN HIM as he bulls his way through the line of taxisand across jammed, clanging 5:50 P.M. Sixth Avenue --

43. INT. UBS BUILDING - 5TH FLOOR CORRIDOR

MAX, steaming, strides down the corridor to --

44. INT. ROOM 509 - NEWS DIV. EXECUTIVE OFFICES

Empty except for perhaps one SECRETARY pecking awayat her typewriter. MAX strides across and into --

45. INT. MAX'S OFFICE

MAX takes off his jacket, throws it on the couch, sitsbehind his desk. But he's too steamed to stay therelong. A moment later, he's up again, strides around,a caged lion. He thumps his desk angrily, stridesaround, then whips his jacket up from the couch andstrides out --

46. INT. CONTROL ROOM - NETWORK NEWS SHOW

The wall CLOCK reads 6:28. The DIRECTOR, TECHNICALDIRECTOR, LIGHTING DIRECTOR and PRODUCTION ASSISTANTare at their long shelf in front of the double bankof television monitors. The AUDIO MAN is off in hisglassed-in cubicle. HARRY HUNTER and his SECRETARYand the UNIT MANAGER are on the raised level in theback. HUNTER is on the phone, looks up as the door tothe control room opens, and MAX, carrying his jacket,comes in. Curious looks from the PERSONNEL here;presidents of news rarely come down to the controlroom. HUNTER finishes his phone call, offers his seatto MAX, but MAX prefers standing in the back --

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT ... five seconds --

LIGHTING DIRECTOR -- picture's too thick --

DIRECTOR -- coming to -- and one --

The show monitor, which has been showing color patterns,now suddenly flicks on to show HOWARD BEALE as he looksup from the sheaf of papers on his desk and says:

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) Good evening. Today is Wednesday, September the twenty-fourth, and this is my last broadcast. Yesterday, I announced on this program that I would commit public suicide, admittedly an act of madness. Well, I'll tell you what happened -- I just ran out of bullshit --

HARRY HUNTER All right, cut him off.

The MONITOR SCREEN goes black.

MAX (from the back wall) Leave him on --

HOWARD's image promptly flicks back on --

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) (looking O.S.) Am I still on the air?

Everybody in the control room looks to MAX --

MAX If this is how he wants to go out, this is how he goes out.

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) I don't know any other way to say it except I just ran out of bull- shit ...

HUNTER (on first phone) Look, Mr. Schumacher's right here, do you want to talk to him? (extends the phone to MAX)

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) Bullshit is all the reasons we give for living, and, if we can't think up any reasons of our own, we always have the God bullshit --

HUNTER'S SECRETARY (awe) Holy Mary Mother of Christ --

MAX (on phone) Yeah, what is it, Tom? --

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) We don't know why the hell we're going through all this pointless pain, humiliation and decay, so there better be someone somewhere who does know; that's the God bullshit --

MAX (on phone) He's saying life is bullshit, and it is, so what're you screaming about? --

He hangs up. The PHONE promptly RINGS again. HUNTER'SSECRETARY picks it up. (HUNTER is on the phone thatrang before.)

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) If you don't like the God bullshit, how about the man bullshit? Man is a noble creature who can order his own world, who needs God?

HUNTER'S SECRETARY (to MAX) Mr. Amundsen for you, Mr. Schumacher.

MAX I'm not taking calls.

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) Well, if there's anybody out there who can look around this demented slaughterhouse of a world we live in and tell me man is a noble creature, that man is full of bullshit --

DIRECTOR (staring in awe at HOWARD on the screen) I know he's sober, so he's got to be just plain nuts -- (starts to giggle)

HARRY HUNTER (screaming) What's so goddam funny?

DIRECTOR I can't help it, Harry, it's funny --

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) I don't have any kids --

A PHONE RINGS. HUNTER'S SECRETARY picks it up.

HARRY HUNTER Max, this is going out live to sixty-seven affiliates --

MAX Leave him on.

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) -- and I was married for thirty- three years of shrill, shrieking fraud --

A breathless and distraught YOUNG WOMAN bursts intothe control room.

YOUNG WOMAN Mr. Hackett's trying to get through to you --

MAX Tell Mr. Hackett to go fuck himself --

47. INT. DIANA'S OFFICE

DIANA, sitting alone in her office, watching HOWARDBEALE on her office console --

HOWARD (ON CONSOLE) I don't have any bullshit left. I just ran out of it, you see --

48. INT. CONTROL ROOM - NETWORK NEWS SHOW

-- as FRANK HACKETT and his assistant, TOM CABELL,wrench the door open and stride in --

HACKETT (roaring) Get him off! Are you people nuts?!

The TECHNICAL DIRECTOR taps a button, and the SCREENmercifully goes black.

49. INT. LOBBY - UBS BUILDING .

White-haired, patrician EDWARD RUDDY, Chairman ofthe Board, impeccably groomed, fastidious in a lighttopcoat, making his way through the absolute CRUSHof NEWSPAPER PEOPLE, WIRE SERVICE PEOPLE, CAMERA CREWSfrom CBS, NBC, ABC, from the local stations, WPIX,WOR-TV, METROMEDIA, and from Channel 13, the educa-tional channel. A half dozen SECURITY GUARDS protectthe elevators, and three more help RUDDY get throughthe GLARING CAMERA LIGHTS and the horde of REPORTERSthrusting mikes at him --

RUDDY (moving through the crowd) -- I'm sorry, I don't have all the facts yet --

50. INT. 20TH FLOOR - LOBBY, LOUNGE, CORRIDOR

MAX, standing by the deserted reception desk, in theempty, silent lounge. This is the top-management floor,and the decor, which is posh-austere, reflects theeminence of the top executives who have their officeshere. It is all silent and empty now, cathedral,hushed, echoing. Way down at the far end of thecorridor, the double doors of the corner office open,and NELSON CHANEY leans out and beckons to MAX, whostarts down the plush carpeting in response --

51. INT. MR. RUDDY'S OFFICE

Large, regal. Impressionist originals on those wallswhich are not glass through which the crepusculargrandeur of New York at night can be seen. RUDDY sitsbehind his desk. JOHN WHEELER, 59, silent, forceful,lounges in one of the several leather chairs. Thedoor opens, and NELSON CHANEY and MAX SCHUMACHER comein. Everybody nods at everybody else. MAX slumpsinto a leather chair.

RUDDY (murmurs to CHANEY) I'll want to see Mr. Beale after this.

CHANEY promptly picks up a corner phone and calls downto the Fourteenth Floor.

RUDDY (regards MAX briefly, murmurs) The way I hear it, Max, you're primarily responsible for this colossally stupid prank. Is that the fact, Max?

MAX That's the fact.

RUDDY It was unconscionable. There doesn't seem to be anything more to say.

MAX I have something to say, Ed. I'd like to know why that whole debasement of the News Division announced at the stockholders' meeting today was kept secret from me. You and I go back twenty years, Ed. I took this job with your personal assurance that you would back my autonomy against any encroachment. But ever since CCA acquired control of the UBS Systems ten months ago, Hackett's been taking over everything. Who the hell's running this network, you or some conglomerate called CCA? I mean, you're the Chairman of the Systems Group, and Frank Hackett's just CCA's hatchet man. Nelson here -- for Pete's sake, he's the president of the network -- he hasn't got anything to say about anything anymore. Who the hell's running this company, you or CCA?

RUDDY (murmurs) I told you at the stockholders' meeting, Max, that we would discuss all that at our regular meeting tomorrow morning. If you had been patient, I would've explained to you that I too thought Frank Hackett precipitate and that the reorgani- zation of the News Division would not be executed until everyone, specifically you, Max, had been consulted and satisfied. Instead, you sulked off like a child and engaged this network in a shocking and disgraceful episode. Your position here is no longer tenable regardless of how management is restructured. I expect you to bring in your resignation at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, and we will coordinate our statements to the least detriment of everyone. (to WHEELER) Bob McDonough will take over the News Division till we sort all this out. (WHEELER nods. RUDDY turns to CHANEY still in the corner of the room on the phone) I'd like to see Mr. Beale now --

CHANEY (on phone) They're looking for him, Ed. They don't know where he is --

52. INT. LOBBY - UBS BUILDING

HOWARD BEALE, bleached almost white by the GLARE ofthe CAMERA LIGHTS, and almost totally obscured by thetidal CRUSH of cameras, REPORTERS, SECURITY GUARDSaround him --

HOWARD -- every day, five days a week, for fifteen years, I've been sitting behind that desk -- the dispassionate pundit --

53. INT. DIANA'S APARTMENT - BEDROOM

DIANA, naked, sitting on the edge of her bed in adark bedroom, watching HOWARD BEALE's impromptu pressconference on television --

DIANA, pausing at the newsstand to pick up the morningpapers, which she reads en route to the elevators --

56. INT. UBS BUILDING - 14TH FLOOR - 9:15 A.M.

DIANA briskly enters through the door marked:DEPARTMENT OF PROGRAMMING, and whisks off down thecorridor --

57. INT. PROGRAMMING DEPARTMENT - COMMON ROOM

DIANA crosses to her own office. THREE SECRETARIES,including DIANA's, are abuzz in a corner over lastnight's Howard Beale show. DIANA'S SECRETARY scurriesto follow DIANA as, in b.g., BARBARA SCHLESINGER comesout of her office carrying four scripts --

58. INT. DIANA'S OUTER OFFICE

DIANA, rummaging through the papers on top of theSECRETARY's desk as the SECRETARY enters --

DIANA Did the overnight ratings come in yet?

SECRETARY They're on your desk.

DIANA Have you still got yesterday's overnights around?

SECRETARY Shall I bring them in?

DIANA Yeah --

She exits into --

59. INT. DIANA'S OFFICE

Morning SUNLIGHT blasting in. DIANA moves to herdesk, stands behind it, scanning the front pages ofthe newspapers piled on her desk, then sits and studiesthe overnight ratings also on her desk. The SECRETARYenters with yesterday's overnights, a sheet of paper,which she extends to DIANA, who promptly studies them.The SECRETARY exits as BARBARA SCHLESINGER enters,sinks onto a chair with a sigh --

SCHLESINGER These are those four outlines submitted by Universal for an hour series. You needn't bother to read them. I'll tell them to you. The first one is set in a large Eastern law school, pre- sumably Harvard. The series is irresistibly entitled The Young Lawyers. The running characters are a crusty but benign ex-Supreme Court Justice, presumably Oliver Wendell Holmes by way of Dr. Zorba. There is a beautiful girl graduate student and the local district attorney who is brilliant and sometimes cuts corners --

DIANA (studying the overnights) Next one --

SCHLESINGER The second one is called The Amazon Squad --

DIANA (studying the overnights) Lady cops?

SCHLESINGER The running characters are a crusty but benign police lieutenant who's always getting heat from the Commissioner, a hard-nosed, hard- drinking detective who thinks women belong in the kitchen, and a brilliant and beautiful young girl cop fighting the feminist battle on the force --

DIANA (now studying the front page of the Daily News) We're up to our ears in lady cop shows.

SCHLESINGER The next one is another investi- gative reporter show. A crusty but benign managing editor who's always getting heat from the publisher --

DIANA The Arabs have decided to jack up the price of oil another twenty per cent, and the C.I.A. has been caught opening Senator Humphrey's mail, there's a civil war in Angola, another one in Beirut, New York City's facing default, they've finally caught up with Patricia Hearst, and -- (she flips the Daily News over so BARBARA can read it) -- the whole front page of the Daily News is Howard Beale.

ACROSS BARBARA SCHLESINGER, half-standing so she canread the newspaper and showing the front page of theDaily News -- which consists of a 3/4 page blowup ofHOWARD BEALE topped by a 52 point black banner headline:-- BEALE FIRED --

DIANA -- it was also a two-column story on page one of the Times -- (calls to her SECRETARY) Helen, call Mr. Hackett's office, see if he can give me a few minutes this morning --

60. INT. ROOM 520 - THE NETWORK NEWS ROOM - 9:30 A.M.

MAX SCHUMACHER and BOB McDONOUGH (mid-40's) enter.The Network News Room is something less than FrontPage, but, nevertheless, a news room. It's a long,large, windowless room, some 40 desks, mostlyunoccupied, a wire room, typewriters and banks oftelevision monitors on the wall. At the moment,work has stopped, and the ENTIRE PERSONNEL of the newsroom, some 60 PEOPLE -- EXECUTIVES and SECRETARIES,PRODUCERS, ASSISTANT PRODUCERS, HEAD WRITERS, WRITERS,DUTY AND ASSIGNMENT EDITORS, and DESK ASSISTANTS,ARTISTS, and FILM AND TAPE EDITORS, REPORTERS,NEWSCASTERS and CAMERA AND AUDIO MEN -- are allgathered, standing and sitting about to hear MAX say --

MAX Ladies and gentlemen, I've been at this network twelve years, and it's been on the whole a ball --

VOICE (in b.g.) Louder --

MAX (louder) -- and I want to thank you all. Bob McDonough here will be taking over for me for the time being, and, much as I hate to admit it, I'm sure everything will go along just fine without me --

61. INT. UBS BUILDING - 15TH FLOOR - 10:00 A.M.

DIANA turning into --

62. INT. HACKETT'S OUTER OFFICE

The SECRETARY waves DIANA straight into --

63. INT. HACKETT'S OFFICE

where HACKETT sits unhappily at his desk poring overmemos from his Stations Relations Department andreports from his Sales Department.

HACKETT (not bothering to look up) KTNS Kansas City refuses to carry our network news any more unless Beale is taken off the air --

DIANA (drops the sheet of paper on HACKETT's desk) Did you see the overnights on the Network News? It has an 8 in New York and a 9 in L.A. and a 27 share in both cities. Last night, Howard Beale went on the air and yelled bullshit for two minutes, and I can tell you right now that tonight's show will get a 30 share at least. I think we've lucked into something.

HACKETT Oh, for God's sakes, are you suggesting we put that lunatic back on the air yelling bullshit?

DIANA Yes, I think we should put Beale

back on the air tonight and keep him On. Did you see the Times this morning? Did you see the News? We've got press coverage on this you couldn't buy for a million dollars. Frank, that dumb show jumped five rating points in one night! Tonight's show has got to be at least fifteen! We just increased our audience by twenty or thirty million people in one night. You're not going to get something like this dumped in your lap for the rest of your days, and you just can't piss it away! Howard Beale got up there last night and said what every American feels -- that he's tired of all the bullshit. He's articulating the popular rage. I want that show, Frank. I can turn that show into the biggest smash in television.

HACKETT What do you mean, you want that show? It's a news show. It's not your department.

DIANA I see Howard Beale as a latter-day prophet, a magnificent messianic figure, inveighing against the hypocrisies of our times, a strip Savonarola, Monday through Friday. I tell you, Frank, that could just go through the roof. And I'm talking about a six dollar cost per thousand show! I'm talking about a hundred, a hundred thirty thousand dollar minutes! Do you want to figure out the revenues of a strip show that sells for a hundred thousand bucks a minute? One show like that could pull this whole network right out of the hole! Now, Frank, it's being handed to us on a plate; let's not blow it!

DIANA Frank, let's not go to committee about this. It's twenty after ten, and we want Beale in that studio by half-past six. We don't want to lose the momentum --

HACKETT For God's sakes, Diana, we're talking about putting a manifestly irresponsible man on national television. I'd like to talk to Legal Affairs at least. And Herb Thackeray and certainly Joe Donnelly and Standards and Practices. And you know I'm going to be eyeball to eyeball with Mr. Ruddy on this. If I'm going to the mat with Ruddy, I want to make sure of some of my ground. I'm the one whose ass is going on the line. I'll get back to you, Diana.

64. INT. EXECUTIVE DINING ROOM - 12:20 P.M.

A large room of white-linened tables, almost emptysave for the five men at one of the window tables,with the spectacular view of midtown Manhattan.The five are FRANK HACKETT, NELSON CHANEY, WALTERAMUNDSEN (General Counsel Network,) ARTHUR ZANGWILL(VP Standards and Practices,) and JOE DONNELLY (VPSales).

CHANEY (who is standing) I don't believe this! I don't believe the top brass of a national television network are sitting around their Caesar salads --

HACKETT The top brass of a bankrupt national television network, with projected losses of close to a hundred and fifty million dollars this year.

CHANEY I don't care how bankrupt! You can't seriously be proposing and the rest of us seriously consider- ing putting on a pornographic network news show! The FCC will kill us!

HACKETT Look, what in substance are we proposing? -- merely to add editorial comment to our network news show. Brinkley, Sevareid, and Reasoner all have their comments. So now Howard Beale will have his. I think we ought to give it a shot. Let's see what happens tonight.

DONNELLY Well, I don't want to be the Babylonian messenger who has to tell Max Schumacher about this.

HACKETT (flagging a WAITER) Max Schumacher doesn't work at this network any more. Mr. Ruddy fired him last night. (to the WAITER) A telephone, please -- (to his COLLEAGUES) Bob McDonoguh's running the News Division now --

A phone is placed before HACKETT, who promptly picksit up and murmurs:

HACKETT (on phone) Bob McDonough in News, please --

65. INT. MAX'S OFFICE - 1:40 P.M.

MAX is on the phone and cleaning out his desk andoffice at the same time. There are empty cartonseverywhere into which MAX is dumping his files. Thereare piles of files on his desk, which he is skimmingthrough even as he talks on the phone --

MAX (on phone) -- I'm just fine financially, Fred. I cashed in my stock options back in April when CC and A took over the network (his other phone BUZZES) That's my other phone, Fred, thanks for calling -- (hangs up, picks up the other phone) Max Schumacher . .. Hi, Dick, how's everything at NBC? --

HOWARD BEALE walks in, carrying an 8 x 12 photograph --

MAX I don't know, Dick. I might teach, I might write a book, whatever the hell one does when one approaches the autumn of one's years --

HOWARD puts the photograph on the desk in front of MAX.

MAX (studying the photograph) My God, is that me? Was I ever that young? (on phone) Howard just showed me a picture of the whole Ed Murrow gang when I was at CBS. My God, Bob Trout, Harry Reasoner, Cronkite, Hollenbeck, and that's you, Howard, right? -- I'll see you, Dick --

Hangs up.

HOWARD (points to the photo) You remember this kid? He's the kid I think you once sent out to interview Cleveland Amory on vivisection --

MAX (beginning to shake with laughter) That's him -- that's him --

They both begin wheezing with laughter. MILTON STEINMANpokes his head in --

STEINMAN What the hell's so funny?

66. INT. ROOM 509 - EXECUTIVE OFFICES, NEWS DIVISION

BOB McDONOUGH (VP Network News and interim head of thedivision) enters, frowning. There is a clot of PEOPLEspilling out from MAX SCHUMACHER's office from whencesounds of LAUGHTER and SHOUTING emanate. Even theSECRETARIES have left their desks to share the fun.McDONOUGH, wondering what the hell it's all about,makes his way through the CRUSH at the door, murmuring:"Excuse me ... sorry, honey ... etc." When he finallygets through the outer office and into --

MAX -- I jump out of bed in my pajamas! I grab my raincoat, run down the stairs, run out into the middle of the street, flag a cab. I jump in, I yell: "Take me to the middle of the George Washington Bridge!" --

HOWL of LAUGHTER --

MAX -- The driver turns around, he says: "Don't do it, kid, you got your whole life ahead of you!"

The room ROCKS with LAUGHTER. When it subsides, BOBMcDONOUGH, standing in the doorway, says:

McDONOUGH Well, if you think that's funny, wait'll you hear this. I've just come down from Frank Hackett's office, and he wants to put Howard back on the air tonight. Apparently, the ratings jumped five points last night, and he wants Howard to go back on and do his angry-man thing.

STEINMAN What're you talking about?

McDONOUGH I'm telling you -- they want Howard to go on yelling bullshit. They want Howard to go on spontaneously letting out his anger, a latter-day prophet, denouncing the hypocrisies of our times --

HOWARD Hey, that sounds pretty good --

MAX Who's this they?

McDONOUGH Hackett. Chaney was there, the Legal Affairs guy, and that girl from Programming.

MAX Christenson? What's she got to do with it?

GIANINI (in b.g.) You're kidding, aren't you, Bob?

McDONOUGH I'm not kidding. I told them: "We're running a news department down there, not a circus. And Howard Beale isn't a bearded lady. And if you think I'll go along with this bastardization of the news, you can have my resignation along with Max Schumacher's right now. And I think I'm speaking for Howard Beale and everybody else down there in News.

HOWARD Hold it, McDonough, that's my job you're turning down. I'll go nuts without some kind of work. What's wrong with being an angry prophet denouncing the hypocrisies of our times? What do you think, Max?

MAX Do you want to be an angry prophet denouncing the hypocrisies of our times?

HOWARD Yeah, I think I'd like to be an angry prophet denouncing the hypocrisies of our times.

MAX Then grab it.

68. INT. 5TH FLOOR CORRIDOR - 3:00 P.M.

MR. RUDDY, slim, slight, white-haired, imperiallyelegant in banker's gray, comes down the corridortowards Room 509. A VIDEOTAPE MAN, popping out of oneof the rooms that debouch off this corridor, quicklystops, stands still --

VIDEOTAPE MAN (murmurs) Afternoon, Mr. Ruddy --

RUDDY (murmurs) Good afternoon.

He passes on towards --

69. INT. ROOM 509

as RUDDY enters. The SIX SECRETARIES pecking away attheir typewriters all pause to murmur awed --

RUDDY Nelson Chaney tells me Beale may actually go on the air this evening.

MAX As far as I know, Howard's going to do it. Are you going to sit still for this, Ed?

RUDDY (takes a folded piece of paper from his inside jacket pocket) Yes. I think Hackett's overstepped himself. There's some kind of corporate maneuvering going on, Max. Hackett is clearly forcing a confrontation. That would account for his behavior at the stockholders' meeting. However, I think he's making a serious mistake with this Beale business. C. C. and A. would never make such an open act of brigandage, especially against the News Division. They are specifically enjoined against any manipulation of the News Division in the consent decree. I suspect C. C. and A. will be upset by Hackett's presumptuousness, certainly Mr. Jensen will. So I'm going to let Hackett have his head for awhile. He just might lose it over this Beale business. (places the paper on MAX's desk) I'd like you to reconsider your resignation. (moves to the couch, sits, crosses his legs, murmurs) I have to assume Hackett wouldn't take such steps without some support on the C. C. and A. board. I'll have to go directly to Mr. Jensen. When that happens, I'm going to need every friend I've got. And I certainly don't want Hackett's people in all the divisional positions. So I'd like you to stay on, Max.

NARRATOR The initial response to the new Howard Beale was not auspicatory. The press was without exception hostile and industry reaction negative. The ratings for the Thursday and Friday show were both 14 and with a 37 share, but Monday's rating dropped two points, clearly suggesting the novelty had worn off --

On the office console, HOWARD BEALE doesn't seem toomuch different than he had always been. He scowls,frowns, seems to be muttering --

NARRATOR -- Indeed, Howard Beale played his new role of latter-day prophet poorly. He was, after all, a newsman, not an actor. He was uncertain, uncomfortable, sometimes inaudible. The general feeling around the network was that this new Howard Beale would be aborted in a matter of days --

73. INT. MAX'S OFFICE - LATER

On the office console, the Network News Show has cometo an end; the CLOSING THEME MUSIC emerges intoSOUND, and the show's CREDITS begin to roll. MAXclicks off the set, folds his hands on the desk andsits glumly regarding his folded hands. After amoment, he becomes aware of another presence in theroom and looks to the doorway where DIANA CHRISTENSONis standing, wearing a white blouse and dark slacksand carrying her jacket and purse. If we haven'talready noticed how attractive she is, we do now --standing as she is, framed in the doorway, backlitby the lights of the deserted common room, suddenlysensuous, even voluptuous.

DIANA (entering the office) Did you know there are a number of psychics working as licensed brokers on Wall Street? (she sits across from MAX, fishes a cigarette out of her purse) Some of them counsel their clients by use of Tarot cards. They're all pretty successful, even in a bear market and selling short. I met one of them a couple of weeks ago and thought of doing a show around her -- The Wayward Witch of Wall Street, something like that. But, of course, if her tips were any good, she could wreck the market. So I called her this morning and asked her how she was on predicting the future. She said she was occasionally prescient. "For example", she said, "I just had a fleeting vision of you sitting in an office with a craggy middle-aged man with whom you are or will be emotionally involved." And here I am.

MAX She does all this with Tarot cards?

DIANA No, this one operates on parapsychology. She has trance- like episodes and feels things in her energy field. I think this lady can be very useful to you, Max.

MAX In what way?

DIANA Well, you put on news shows, and here's someone who can predict tomorrow's news for you. Her name, aptly enough, is Sibyl. Sybil the Soothsayer. You could give her two minutes of trance at the end of a Howard Beale show, say once a week, Friday, which is suggestively occult, and she could oraculate. Then next week, everyone tunes in to see how good her predictions were.

MAX Maybe she could do the weather.

DIANA (smiles) Your network news show is going to need some help, Max, if it's going to hold. Beale doesn't do the angry man thing well at all. He's too kvetchy. He's being irascible. We want a prophet, not a curmudgeon. He should do more apocalyptic doom. I think you should take on a couple of writers to write some jeremiads for him. I see you don't fancy my suggestions.

MAX Hell, you're not being serious, are you?

DIANA Oh, I'm serious. The fact is, I could make your Beale show the highest-rated news show in television, if you'd let me have a crack at it.

MAX What do you mean, have a crack at it?

DIANA I'd like to program it for you, develop it. I wouldn't interfere with the actual news. But teevee is show biz, Max, and even the News has to have a little showmanship.

MAX My God, you are serious.

DIANA I watched your six o'clock news today -- it's straight tabloid. You had a minute and a half on that lady riding a bike naked in Central Park. On the other hand, you had less than a minute of hard national and international news. It was all sex, scandal, brutal crimes, sports, children with incurable diseases and lost puppies. So I don't think I'll listen to any protestations of high standards of journalism. You're right down in the street soliciting audiences like the rest of us. All I'm saying is, if you're going to hustle, at least do it right. I'm going to bring this up at tomorrow's network meeting, but I don't like network hassles, and I was hoping you and I could work this out between us. That's why I'm here right now.

MAX (sighs) And I was hoping you were looking for an emotional involvement with a craggy middle-aged man.

DIANA I wouldn't rule that out entirely.

They appraise each other for a moment; clearly, thereare the possibilities of something more than aprofessional relationship here.

MAX Well, Diana, you bring all your ideas up at the meeting tomorrow. Because, if you don't, I will. I think Howard is making a goddam fool of himself, and so does everybody Howard and I know in this industry. It was a fluke. It didn't work. Tomorrow, Howard goes back to the old format and this gutter depravity comes to an end.

DIANA (smiles, stands) Okay.

She leans forward to flick her ash into MAX's desk ashtray. Half-shaded as she is by the cone of lightissuing from the desk lamp, it is nipple-clear she isbra-less, and MAX cannot help but note the assertiveswells of her body. DIANA moves languidly to the doorand would leave but MAX suddenly says:

MAX I don't get it, Diana. You hung around till half-past seven and came all the way down here just to pitch a couple of loony show biz ideas when you knew goddam well I'd laugh you out of this office. I don't get it. What's your scam in this anyway?

DIANA moves back to the desk and crushes her cigaretteout in the desk tray.

DIANA Max, I don't know why you suddenly changed your mind about resigning, but I do know Hackett's going to throw you out on your ass in January. My little visit here tonight was just a courtesy made out of respect for your stature in the industry and because I've personally admired you ever since I was a kid majoring in speech at the University of Missouri. But sooner or later, now or in January, with or without you, I'm going to take over your network news show, and I figured I might as well start tonight.

MAX I think I once gave a lecture at the University of Missouri.

DIANA I was in the audience. I had a terrible schoolgirl crush on you for a couple of months.

She smiles, glides to the doorway again.

MAX Listen, if we can get back for a moment to that gypsy who predicted all that about emotional involvements and middle-aged men -- what're you doing for dinner tonight?

DIANA pauses in the doorway, and then moves backbriskly to the desk, picks up the telephone receiver,taps out a telephone number, waits for a moment --

DIANA (on phone) I can't make it tonight, luv, call me tomorrow.

She returns the receiver to its cradle, looks at MAX;their eyes lock.

MAX Do you have any favorite restaurant?

DIANA I eat anything.

MAX Son of a bitch, I get the feeling I'm being made.

DIANA You sure are.

MAX I better warn you I don't do anything on the first date.

DIANA We'll see.

She moves for the door. MAX stares down at his desk.

MAX (mutters) Schmuck, what're you getting into?

He sighs, stands, flicks off his desk lamp.

74. INT. A RESTAURANT

MAX and DIANA at the end of their dinner. In fact,MAX is flagging a WAITER for two coffees, black --

DIANA (plying away at her ice cream) You're married, surely.

MAX Twenty-six years. I have a married daughter in Seattle who's six months pregnant, and a younger girl who starts at Northwestern in January.

DIANA -- Well, Max, here we are -- middle-aged man reaffirming his middle-aged manhood and a terrified young woman with a father complex. What sort of script do you think we can make out of this?

MAX Terrified, are you?

DIANA (pushes her ice cream away, regards him affably) Terrified out of my skull, man. I'm the hip generation, man, right on, cool, groovy, the greening of America, man, remember all that? God, what humbugs we were. In my first year at college, I lived in a commune, dropped acid daily, joined four radical groups and fucked myself silly on a bare wooden floor while somebody chanted Sufi sutras. I lost six weeks of my sophomore year because they put me away for trying to jump off the top floor of the Administration Building. I've been on the top floor ever since. Don't open any windows around me because I just might jump out. Am I scaring you off?

MAX No.

DIANA I was married for four years and pretended to be happy and had six years of analysis and pretended to be sane. My husband ran off with his boyfriend, and I had an affair with my analyst. He told me I was the worst lay he had ever had. I can't tell you how many men have told me what a lousy lay I am. I apparently have a masculine temperament. I arouse quickly, consummate prematurely, and can't wait to get my clothes back on and get out of that bedroom. I seem to be inept at everything except my work. I'm goddam good at my work and so I confine myself

DIANA (sipping coffee, smiles) I'm not. Frank's a corporation man, body and soul. He surrendered his spirit to C. C. and A. years ago. He's a marketing-merchandising management machine, precision- tooled for corporate success. He's married to one C. C. and A. board member's daughter, he attends another board member's church, his children aged two and five are already enrolled in a third board member's alma mater. He has no loves, lusts or allegiances that are not consummately directed towards becoming a C. C. and A. board member himself. So why should he bother with me? I'm not even a stockholder.

MAX How about your loves, lusts and allegiances?

They smile at each other.

DIANA Is your wife in town?

MAX Yes.

DIANA Well, then, we better go to my place.

75. INT. DIANA'S APARTMENT - BEDROOM

Dark. Blinds drawn. MAX and DIANA lying naked on amaelstrom of sheets, both still puffing from whatmust have been an ebullient bout in the sack --

DIANA Wow, and you were the guy who kept telling me how he was going to be a grandfather in three months.

MAX Hell, you were the girl who kept telling me what a lousy lay she was.

She bounces out of bed and stands naked in the shadoweddarkness, arms akimbo, looking happily down at MAX onthe bed.

DIANA All right, enough of this love-making. Are you going to let me take over your network news show or not?

HOWARD (suddenly) I can't hear you. You'll have to speak a little louder.

He gets up on one elbow, eyes still closed, cocks hishead as if he were listening to someone mumbling fromthe rocking chair across the room.

HOWARD You're kidding. How the hell would I know what the truth is?

He sits up, gets out of bed, walks around and percheson the foot of the bed, stares at the empty rocker,nods his head as if he is following a complicatedargument --

HOWARD What the hell is this, the burning bush? For God's sake, I'm not Moses --

Whoever he thinks he is talking to apparently gets upand crosses the room to the overstuffed chair and sitsthere, since HOWARD follows this movement with his eyesand finally gets up and perches on the side of his bedin order to continue the curious conversation.

HOWARD at his typewriter, clicking away. MAX leansin through the open doorway --

MAX Howard, we're going back to straight news tonight. You don't have to be the mad prophet any more.

HOWARD turns to regard MAX in the doorway with a sweetsmile.

HOWARD I must go on with what I'm doing, Max. I have been called. This is my witness, and I must make it.

This gives MAX pause, to say the least.

MAX You must make what, Howard?

HOWARD I must make my witness. I must lead the people from the waters. I must stay their stampede to the sea.

MAX takes a step into the office and closes the door.

MAX You must stay their what, Howard?

HOWARD I must stay their headlong suicidal stampede to the sea.

MAX (regards Howard for a moment) Well, hallelujah, Howard, are you putting me on or have you flipped or what?

HOWARD (serenely) I have heard voices, Max.

MAX You have heard voices. Swell. What kind of voices, Howard? Still small voices in the night or the mighty thunder of God? Howard, you've finally done it. You've gone over the edge. You're nuts.

HOWARD I have been called. This is my witness, and I must make it.

MAX Not on my goddam network news show.

He opens the door, goes back into --

80. INT. NIGHTLY NEWS ROOM

-- where he stops, turns and wheels back to HOWARD'soffice --

MAX Now, look, Howard, I'm not kidding around about this. You go back to being a straight anchorman tonight. I'm the voice you're hearing now, and this voice is telling you we're doing a straight news show from now on. Okay?

HUNTER (muttering into phone) Max, I'm telling you he's fine. He's been sharp all day, he's been funny as hell. He had everybody cracking up at the rundown meeting ... I told him, I told him ...

82. INT. NETWORK NEWS CONTROL ROOM - LATER

On the SHOW MONITOR, HOWARD BEALE at his desk,shuffles his papers, looks up for his cue. Thewall CLOCK clicks to 6:30, the DIRECTOR murmurs intohis mike. HOWARD looks out from the screen to hisvast audience and says:

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) Last night, I was awakened from a fitful sleep at shortly after two o'clock in the morning by a shrill, sibilant, faceless voice that was sitting in my rocking chair. I couldn't make it out at first in the dark bedroom. I said: "I'm sorry, you'll have to talk a little louder." And the Voice said to me: "I want you to tell the people the truth, not an easy thing to do; because the people don't want to know the truth." I said: "You're kidding. How the hell would I know what the truth is?" I mean, you have to picture me sitting there on the foot of the bed talking to an empty rocking chair. I said to myself: "Howard, you are some kind of banjo-brain sitting here talking to an empty chair." But the Voice said to me: "Don't worry about the truth. I'll put the words in your mouth." And I said: "What is this, the burning bush? For God's sake, I'm not Moses." And the Voice said to me: "And I'm not God, what's that got to do with it --"

83. INT. NETWORK NEWS CONTROL ROOM

HARRY HUNTER still on the phone as the rest of thecontrol room STAFF just sit there staring at HOWARDon the MONITOR --

HUNTER (on phone) What do you want me to do? --

84. INT. MAX'S OFFICE

MAX behind his desk on his phone, chin cupped in hisright hand, staring glumly at HOWARD on his CONSOLE --

MAX (on phone) Nothing --

HOWARD (ON CONSOLE) And the Voice said to me: "We're not talking about eternal truth or absolute truth or ultimate truth! We're talking about impermanent, transient, human truth! I don't expect you people to be capable of truth! But, goddamit, you're at least capable of self-preservation! That's good enough! I want you to go out and tell the people to preserve themselves -- "

MAX (mutters on phone) Right now, I'm trying to remember the name of that psychiatrist that took care of him when his wife died --

85. INT. STUDIO - NETWORK NEWS

TIGHT SHOT OF HOWARD, his voice rising, his eyesglowing with increasing fervor --

HOWARD (growing fervor) And I said to the Voice: "Why me?" And the Voice said: "Because you're on television, dummy! -- "

86. INT. DIANA'S OFFICE

DIANA watching HOWARD on her CONSOLE --

DIANA Beautiful!

HOWARD (ON CONSOLE) "You have forty million Americans listening to you; after tonight's show, you could have fifty million. For Pete's sake, I don't expect you to walk the land in sackcloth and ashes preaching the Armageddon. You're on Teevee, man! -- "

87. INT. MAX'S OFFICE

MAX, no longer on the phone, is leafing through aloose-leaf address book --

HOWARD (ON CONSOLE) So I thought about it for a moment --

MAX taps out a telephone number on his private line --

HOWARD (ON CONSOLE) And then I said: "Okay -- "

MAX (on phone) Doctor Sindell? My name is Max Schumacher, I'm at the Union Broadcasting Systems, and I hope you remember me? I'm a friend of Howard Beale whom you treated for a few months last year --

88. INT. FIFTH FLOOR CORRIDOR

as HOWARD and HARRY HUNTER, followed by the rest ofthe control room STAFF, come out of the stairway andhead down the corridor to --

89. INT. ROOM 517 - NIGHTLY NEWS ROOM

where HUNTER and HOWARD move towards HOWARD's officewhile the rest of the control room CREW disperse totheir own desks and to exchange muttered comments withthose Nightly News PERSONNEL still at their desks.HOWARD walks straight as a ramrod, eyes uplifted,serene to the point of beatitude. He and HUNTERgo into --

90. INT. HOWARD'S OFFICE

where MAX is sitting, waiting on the couch. Hestands --

MAX Close the door, Harry --

HUNTER does so.

MAX Sit down, Howard. Howard, I'm taking you off the air. I called your psychiatrist.

HOWARD (serene, sits behind his desk)

What's happening to me, Max, isn't mensurate in psychiatric terms.

MAX I think you're having a breakdown, require treatment, and Dr. Sindell agrees.

HOWARD This is not a psychotic episode. It is a cleansing moment of clarity. (stands, an imbued man) I am imbued, Max. I am imbued with some special spirit. It's not a religious feeling at all. It is a shocking eruption of great electrical energy: I feel vivid and flashing as if suddenly I had been plugged into some great cosmic electromagnetic field. I feel connected to all living things, to flowers, birds, to all the animals of the world and even to some great unseen living force, what I think the Hindus call prana.

He stands rigidly erect, his eyes staring mindlesslyout, his face revealing the anguish of so transcendentala state.

HOWARD It is not a breakdown. I have never felt so orderly in my life! It is a shattering and beautiful sensation! It is the exalted flow of the space-time continuum, save that it is spaceless and timeless and of such loveliness! I feel on the verge of some great ultimate truth.

He stares haggardly at MAX, his breath coming withgreat difficulty now; he shouts:

HOWARD You will not take me off the air for now or for any other spaceless time!

He promptly falls in a dead swoon onto the floor.

MAX (hurrying to his friend's prostrate form) Jesus Christ --

HUNTER (from the door) Is he okay?

MAX (bent over HOWARD) He's breathing anyway. I'll have to take him to my house again for the night --

A CRASH OF THUNDER --

91. INT. MAX'S APARTMENT - BEDROOM - NIGHT

THUNDER CRASHES outside. RAIN pelts against thewindows. The room is dark. MAX and his wife, LOUISE,are fast asleep in their hushed room. CAMERA PANS,DOLLIES slowly out of the bedroom and into --

92. INT. LIVING ROOM

Dark, hushed, sleeping. HOWARD is asleep on the livingroom couch. Or rather he was asleep, for he now slowlysits up, then stands in his borrowed pajamas, goes tothe hall closet, fetches out a raincoat, unchains,unbolts and unlocks the front door of the apartment,and goes out --

Another CRASH and RUMBLE of THUNDER. RAIN slashesthrough the streets. The sky is dark and lowering --

94. INT. MAX'S APARTMENT - BEDROOM

ALARM CLOCK BUZZING. MRS. LOUISE SCHUMACHER, ahandsome matron of 50, clicks it off and gets out ofbed. MAX turns in the bed, sleeps on. THUNDER andRAIN O.S. LOUISE starts sleepily for the bathroom,pauses, then goes out into the --

INT. BACK HALLWAY

-- and down that to --

INT. LIVING ROOM

-- where she stands, frowning. The couch, which hadbeen made up for a bed, has clearly been slept inbut is now empty. She looks back up the hallway tothe guest bathroom. The door is open, and there isobviously nobody in the bathroom. She pads acrossthe living room-dining room area and pokes her headinto the kitchen, and then back to the back hallway,pauses a moment outside her daughter's closed bedroomdoor, opens it, looks in, closes it and then returnsto --

INT. THE BEDROOM

She sits on MAX's side of the bed, shakes him awake.

LOUISE Wake up, Max, because Howard's gone. I'll make you some coffee.

She moves off.

MAX (mutters) Shit.

He slowly sits up.

95. INT. FRANK HACKETT'S OFFICE

HACKETT in a rage, shouting at MAX slumped in a softchair. Others in the room are DIANA and HERBTHACKERAY.

HACKETT What do you mean you don't know where he is? The son of a bitch is a hit, goddammit! Over two thousand phone calls! Go down to the mailroom! As of this minute, over fourteen thousand telegrams! The response is sensational! Herb, tell him! --

HACKETT Moldanian called me! Joe Donnelly called me! We've got a goddam hit, goddam it! Diana, show him the Times! We even got an editorial in the holy goddam New York Times. "A Call to Morality!" That crazy son of a bitch, Beale, has caught on! So don't tell me you don't know where he is!

MAX (roaring back) I don't know where he is! He may be jumping off a roof for all I know. The man is insane. He's no longer responsible for himself. He needs care and treatment. And all you grave-robbers care about is he's a hit!

DIANA You know, Max, it's just possible that he isn't insane, that he is, in fact, imbued with some special spirit.

MAX My God, I'm supposed to be the romantic; you're supposed to be the hard-bitten realist!

DIANA All right. Howard Beale obviously fills a void. The audience out there obviously wants a prophet, even a manufactured one, even

if he's as mad as Moses. By tomorrow, he'll have a 50 share, maybe even a 60 share. Howard Beale is processed instant God, and right now it looks like he may just go over bigger than Mary Tyler Moore.

MAX I'm not putting Howard back on the air.

DIANA It's not your show any more, Max, it's mine.

MAX You're nuts. You're nuttier than Howard.

HACKETT I gave her the show, Schumacher. I'm putting the network news show under programming. Mr. Ruddy has had a mild heart attack and is not taking calls. In his absence, I'm making all network decisions, including one I've been wanting to make a long time -- you're fired. I want you out of this building by noon. I'll leave word with the security guards to throw you out if you're still here.

MAX Well, let's just say, fuck you, Hackett. You want me out, you're going to have to drag me out kicking and screaming. And the whole news division will walk out kicking and screaming with me.

HACKETT You think they're going to quit their jobs for you. Not in this depression, buddy.

MAX When Ruddy gets back, he'll have your ass.

HACKETT I got a hit, Schumacher, and Ruddy doesn't count any more. He was hoping I'd fall on my face with this Beale show, but I didn't. It's a big, fat, big-titted hit, and I don't have to waffle around with Ruddy any more. If he wants to take me up before the C.C. and A. board, let him. And do you think Ruddy's stupid enough to go to the CCA board and say: "I'm taking our one hit show off the air?" And comes November Fourteen, I'm going to be standing up there at the annual CCA management review meeting, and I'm going to announce projected earnings for this network for the first time in five years. And, believe me, Mr. Jensen will be sitting there rocking back and forth in his little chair, and he's going to say: "That's very good, Frank, keep it up." So don't have any illusions about who's running this network from now on. You're fired. I want you out of your office before noon or I'll have you thrown out. (to DIANA) And you go along with this?

DIANA Well, Max, I told you I didn't want a network hassle over this. I told you I'd much rather work the Beale show out just between the two of us.

MAX (stands) Well, let's just say, fuck you too, honey. (to HACKETT) Howard Beale may be my best friend! I'll go to court. I'll put him in a hospital before I let you exploit him like a carnival freak.

HACKETT You get your psychiatrists, and I'll get mine.

MAX (heading for the door) I'm going to spread this whole reeking business in every paper and on every network, independent, group, and affiliated station in this country. I'm going to make a lot of noise about this.

HACKETT (his PHONE BUZZES, he picks it up) Tom, Howard Beale has disappeared. Tell Harriman to prepare a big statement for the news media. And call the cops and tell them to find the crazy son of a bitch --

of entrance to UBS Building. HOWARD BEALE, wearing acoat over his pajamas, drenched to the skin, his mop ofgray hair plastered in streaks to his brow, hunchedagainst the rain, climbs the steps and pushes the glassdoor at the entrance and goes into --

98. INT. UBS BUILDING - LOBBY

TWO SECURITY GUARDS at the desk watch HOWARD pass --

SECURITY GUARD How do you Mr. Beale?

HOWARD stops, turns, stares haggardly at the SECURITYGUARD.

HOWARD (mad as a loon) I have to make my witness.

SECURITY GUARD (an agreeable fellow) Sure thing, Mr. Beale.

HOWARD plods off to the elevators.

99. INT. NETWORK NEWS CONTROL ROOM

Murmured, efficient activity as in previous scenes.DIANA stands in the back in the shadows. On the SHOWMONITOR, JACK SNOWDEN, BEALE's replacement, has beendoing the news straight --

SNOWDEN (ON MONITOR) ... Oil ministers of the OPEC nations meeting in Vienna still haven't decided how much more to increase the price of oil next Wednesday. Iran and some of the Arab states want to jack up the price by as much as twenty percent --

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT Five seconds --

TECHNICAL DIRECTOR Twenty-five in Vienna --

DIRECTOR And ... two --

SNOWDEN (ON MONITOR) The Saudi Arabians are being more cautious. They just want a ten per- cent increase. More on that story from Edward Fletcher in Vienna --

All this is UNDER and OVERLAPPED by HARRY HUNTERanswering a BUZZ on his phone --

HUNTER (on phone) Yeah? ... Okay -- (hangs up, to DIANA) He came in the building about five minutes ago.

PRODUCTION ASSISTANT Ten seconds coming to one --

DIANA Tell Snowden if he comes in the studio to let him go on.

HUNTER (to the STAGE MANAGER) Did you get that, Paul?

The STAGE MANAGER nods, passes on the instructions to hisA.D. on the studio floor. On the SHOW MONITOR, we seefootage of the OPEC Vienna meeting. Lots of Arab headdressesand bearded Levantine faces at conference tables, and we arehearing the VOICE of Edward Fletcher in Vienna --

FLETCHER (ON MONITOR) This has probably been the most divisive meeting the oil-producing states have ever had. The thirteen nations of OPEC have still not been able to decide by how much to increase the price of oil --

On the SHOW MONITOR, the footage flicks to Sheik Zaki Yamanibeing interviewed by a corps of correspondents outside themeeting hall --

FLETCHER (V.O.) Saudi Arabian oil minister Sheik Zaki Yamani flew to London yesterday for further consultations with his government. He returned to the Vienna meetings today--

Nobody in the control room is paying too much attentionto Yamani, they are all watching the double bank ofblack-and-white monitors which show HOWARD BEALEentering the studio, drenched, hunched, staring gauntlyoff into his own space, moving with single-mindedpurpose across the studio floor past cameras andASSISTANT DIRECTORS, CAMERAMEN, SOUND MEN, ELECTRICIANSand ASSOCIATE PRODUCERS, to his desk which is beingvacated for him by JACK SNOWDEN. On the SHOW MONITOR,the film clip of Yamani has come to an end.

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) I don't have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It's a depression. Everybody's out of work or scared of losing their job, the dollar buys a nickel's worth, banks are going bust, shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter, punks are running wild in the streets, and there's nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there's no end to it. We know the air's unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat, and we sit and watch our tee-vees while some local newscaster tells us today we had fifteen homicides and sixty-three violent crimes, as if that's the way it's supposed to be. We all know things are bad. Worse than bad. They're crazy. It's like everything's going crazy. So we don't go out any more. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we live in gets smaller, and all we ask is

please, at least leave us alone in our own living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my tee-vee and my hair-dryer and my steel- belted radials, and I won't say anything, just leave us alone. Well, I'm not going to leave you alone. I want you to get mad --

ANOTHER ANGLE showing the rapt attention of the PEOPLEin the control room, especially of DIANA --

HOWARD I don't want you to riot. I don't want you to protest. I don't want you to write your congressmen. Because I wouldn't know what to tell you to write. I don't know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the defense budget and the Russians and crime in the street. All I know is first you got to get mad. You've got to say: "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take this any more. I'm a human being, goddammit. My life has value." So I want you to get up now. I want you to get out of your chairs and go to the window. Right now. I want you to go to the window, open it, and stick your head out and yell. I want you to yell: "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take this any more!"

DIANA (grabs HUNTER's shoulder) How many stations does this go out live to?

HUNTER Sixty-seven. I know it goes out to Atlanta and Louisville, I think --

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) -- Get up from your chairs. Go to the window. Open it. Stick your head out and yell and keep yelling --

But DIANA has already left the control room and isscurrying down --

100. INT. CORRIDOR

-- yanking doors open, looking for a phone, whichshe finds in --

101. INT. AN OFFICE

DIANA (seizing the phone) Give me Stations Relations -- (the call goes through) Herb, this is Diana Christenson, are you watching because I want you to call every affiliate carrying this live -- I'll be right up --

102. INT. ELEVATOR AREA - FIFTEENTH FLOOR

DIANA bursts out of the just-arrived elevator andstrides down to where a clot of EXECUTIVES and OFFICEPERSONNEL are blocking an open doorway. DIANA pushesthrough to --

103. INT. THACKERAY'S OFFICE - STATIONS RELATIONS

HERB THACKERAY on the phone, staring up at HOWARDBEALE on his wall monitor --

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) -- First, you have to get mad. When you're mad enough --

Both THACKERAY'S SECRETARY's office and his own officeare filled with his STAFF. The Assistant VP StationRelations, a 32-year-old fellow named RAY PITOFSKY,is at the SECRETARY's desk, also on the phone. AnotherASSISTANT VP is standing behind him on the SECRETARY'sother phone --

DIANA (shouting to THACKERAY) Whom are you talking to?

THACKERAY WCGG, Atlanta --

DIANA Are they yelling in Atlanta, Herb?

HOWARD (ON CONSOLE) -- we'll figure out what to do about the depression --

THACKERAY (on phone) Are they yelling in Atlanta, Ted?

104. INT. GENERAL MANAGER'S OFFICE - UBS AFFILIATE - ATLANTA

The GENERAL MANAGER of WCGG, Atlanta, a portly58-year-old man, is standing by the open windows of hisoffice, staring out into the gathering dusk, holdinghis phone. The station is located in an Atlantasuburb, but from far off across the foliagesurrounding the station, there can be heard a faintRUMBLE. On his office console, HOWARD BEALE issaying --

DIANA grabs the phone from him and listens to thepeople of Baton Rouge yelling their anger in thestreets --

HOWARD (ON CONSOLE) -- Things have got to change. But you can't change them unless you're mad. You have to get mad. Go to the window --

DIANA (gives phone back to PITOFSKY; her eyes glow with excitement) The next time somebody asks you to explain what ratings are, you tell them: that's ratings! (exults) Son of a bitch, we struck the mother lode!

106. INT. MAX'S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM

MAX, MRS. SCHUMACHER, and their 17-year-old daughter,CAROLINE, watching the Network News Show --

HOWARD (ON THE SET) -- Stick your head out and yell. I want you to yell: "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take this any more!"

CAROLINE gets up from her chair and heads for theliving room window.

LOUISE SCHUMACHER Where are you going?

CAROLINE I want to see if anybody's yelling.

HOWARD (ON TV SET) Right now. Get up. Go to your window --

107. INT./EXT. MAX'S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM

CAROLINE opens the window and looks out on therain-swept streets of the upper East Side, thebulking, anonymous apartment houses and the occasionalbrownstones. It is thunder dark; a distant clap ofTHUNDER CRASHES somewhere off and LIGHTNING shattersthe dank darkness. In the sudden HUSH following thethunder, a thin voice down the block can be heardshouting:

THIN VOICE (O.S.) I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take this any morel

HOWARD (ON TV SET) -- open your window --

MAX joins his daughter at the window. RAIN spraysagainst his face --

108. MAX'S P.O.V.

He sees occasional windows open, and, just acrossfrom his apartment house, a MAN opens the front doorof a brownstone --

MAN (shouts) I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take this any more!

OTHER SHOUTS are heard. From his twenty-third floorvantage point, MAX sees the erratic landscape ofManhattan buildings for some blocks, and, silhouettedHEADS in window after window, here, there, and thenseemingly everywhere, SHOUTING out into the slashingblack RAIN of the streets --

VOICES I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take this any morel

A terrifying enormous CLAP of natural THUNDER, followedby a frantic brilliant FULGURATION of LIGHTNING; and nowthe gathering CHORUS of scattered SHOUTS seems to becoming from the whole, huddled, black horde of thecity's people, SCREAMING together in fury, anindistinguishable tidal roar of human rage as formidableas the natural THUNDER again ROARING, THUNDERING,RUMBLING above. It sounds like a Nuremberg rally, theair thick and trembling with it --

109. FULL SHOT - MAX

standing with his DAUGHTER by the open terrace window-doors, RAIN spraying against them, listening to thestupefying ROARS and THUNDERING rising from all aroundhim. He closes his eyes, sighs, there's nothing hecan do about it any more, it's out of his hands.

NARRATOR In the September rating book, the Howard Beale show was listed as the fourth highest-rated show of the month, surpassed only by All in the Family, Rhoda, and Chico and the Man -- a phenomenal

state of affairs for a news program --

112. EXT. UBS BUILDING - L.A. - DAY

A towering glass building on Santa Monica Boulevard.IDENTIFY.

NARRATOR And, on October the Sixteenth, Diana Christenson flew to Los Angeles --

113. INT. WEST COAST UBS BUILDING - A CONFERENCE ROOM

DIANA at a luncheon meeting (sandwiches and containersof coffee), with her West Coast ProgrammingDepartment --

NARRATOR -- for what the trade calls pow-wows and confabs with her West Coast programming execs --

These are FOUR MEN and TWO WOMEN; GLENN KOSSOFF andBARBARA SCHLESINGER; the THREE OTHER MEN are theAssistant VP Program Development West Coast, Headof the Story Department West Coast, and a MAN fromAudience Research; the WOMAN is VP Daytime ProgrammingWest Coast. They are all sitting around a typicalmod-shaped conference table except for DIANA who ismoving towards a large display board at the far endof the table stretching the length of the wall. Thisis an improvised programming "board". It shows --through movable heavy cardboard pieces -- what allfour networks have on by the half hour for all sevendays of the week --

DIANA Wednesday night looks weak on all three of the other networks for next September, so we concentrate on Wednesday night. We're going to expand the Howard Beale show to an hour in January, which'll give us a hell of a lead-in to eight o'clock. So, on Wednesday nights, I want to follow that with two strong dramatic hours, no sit-coms, nothing lightweight --

BILL HERRON pokes his head into the room --

HERRON (to DIANA) I've got Laureen Hobbs' lawyer on the phone. Is five-thirty okay, and where would you like to meet, here or at the hotel?

DIANA (to SCHLESINGER) Let's put Hy Norman at five -- (to HERRON) Five-thirty is fine, and at my office, if they don't mind. (back to her "board" and her exhortation to the programming people) -- What I want right now are movies of the week we can use for pilots. I want five movies of the week ready by March at the outside, preferably sooner --

He ushers in a silver-haired, suntanned, fresh-from-the-tennis-court man dressed in California elegance,rakish blazer, archetype of all L.A. television pack-agers -- HY NORMAN --

KOSSOFF Hy, I think you know Barbara Schlesinger, but I don't know if you know Diana Christenson --

NORMAN (sinking casually into the visitor's chair, crossing his legs, flashing a fully-capped set of teeth) As a matter of fact, I think we met during the 1972 McGovern-for- President campaign, of which, I am proud to say, I was a principal fund raiser --

DIANA (leaning across the desk to shake his hand) No, I'm afraid not. Now, Hy, we're running a little late, so I'd like to get right to it. I have an idea for an hour television series, and I'd like to lay it in your lap. Here's the back-up story. The hero is white-collar middle-class, an architect, aviation engineer, anything, a decent law-abiding man. He lives with his wife and daughter in a large city. His wife and daughter are raped and he's mugged. He appeals to the police, but their hands are tied by the Warren Court decisions. There's nothing but pornography in the movies, and vandals bomb his church. The animals are taking over. So he decides to take the law into his own hands. He buys a gun, practices till he's an expert. He takes up karate, becomes a black belt, an adept in Kung Fu and all the other martial arts. Now, he starts walking the streets of the city, decoying muggers into preying on him. He kung fu's them all. Pretty soon, he's joined by a couple of neighbors. What we've got now is a vigilante group. That's the name of the show -- the Vigilantes. The idea is, if the law won't protect the decent people, they have to take the law into their own hands.

NORMAN That may be he most fascistic idea I've heard in years.

DIANA Right.

NORMAN And a shameless steal from a movie called "Death Wish."

DIANA I know. And, so far, "Death Wish" has grossed seventeen million domes- tic. It obviously struck a pulse in Americans. I want to strike the same pulse. Now, let me finish, Hy. The format is simple. Every week a crime is committed, and the police are helpless to deal with it. The victim turns to our group of vigi- lantes. What the hell, it's FBI, Mission Impossible, Kojack, except the heroes are ordinary citizens, your neighbors and mine.

NORMAN (standing) I find the whole thing repulsive.

DIANA You give me a pilot script we can use as a movie of the week for January, and I'll commit to twelve segments on the basis of that script.

NORMAN (turns) You'll commit on the basis of the pilot script?

DIANA That's what I said. That's a three million dollar commitment. I figure you could skim a quarter of a million for yourself out of that. Of course, we all know you're a highly principled

political liberal, and you may find this kind of show repulsive --

NORMAN (slowly sitting again) Well -- not necessarily. I deplore vigilante tactics, of course, but the vigilante tradition is a profound, even proud tradition in the American social fabric. This sort of program also offers opportunities for coming to grips with the burning issues of our times, to do meaningful drama and at the same time providing mass enter- tainment --

DIANA Beautiful, Hy.

NORMAN Who do I talk numbers with, Charlie Kinkaid?

DIANA Right. I'll call Charlie and tell him we'll go to forty thousand for the first script. If you come in with anything good, Hy, I'll slot you on Wednesday nights at eight coming right off the Howard Beale Show, and that's the best lead-in you'll ever get.

NORMAN opens the door to leave, looks out into theouter office, closes the door, turns to DIANA.

NORMAN Is that Laureen Hobbs out there? What the hell is Laureen Hobbs doing out there?

DIANA We're going to put the Communist Party on prime-time television, Hy.

DIANA Christ, you brought half the William Morris West Coast office with you. I'm Diana Christenson, a racist lackey of the imperialist ruling circles.

LAUREEN I'm Laureen Hobbs, a bad-ass Commie nigger.

DIANA Sounds like the basis of a firm friendship. (to KOSSOFF) We're going to need more chairs --

In b.g., meanwhile, SCHLESINGER is exchanging helloswith the THREE WILLIAM MORRIS AGENTS and is beingintroduced to the LAWYERS and looking at baby picturesproffered to her by one of the agents. It's all jollyas hell, a lot of chuckling and smiling --

SCHLESINGER (in b.g.) Anybody want coffee?

LENNIE Black with Sucaryl --

KOSSOFF and a SECRETARY are hauling in chairs --

LAUREEN (introducing to DIANA) This is my lawyer, Sam Haywood, and his associate, Robert Murphy --

HAYWOOD (an old union lawyer, given to peroration) Well, MS. Christenson, just what the hell's this all about? Because when a national television network in the person of bubby here -- (indicates HERRON) -- comes to me and says he wants to put the ongoing struggle of the oppressed masses on prime-time television, I have to regard this askance --

More chairs are brought in. DIANA would answer HAYWOODbut he booms along, beginning to hit his stride

HAYWOOD I have to figure this as an antithetical distraction. The thesis here, if you follow me, is that the capitalist state is in a terminal condition now, and the anti- thesis is the maturation of the fascist state, and when the correlative appendages of the fascist state come and say to me they want to give the revolution a weekly hour of prime-time television, I've got to figure this is preventive co-optation, right? --

The necessary chairs are in by now, and everyone isseated. The SECRETARY has gone off to fetch the coffee.A sudden HUSH follows HAYWOOD's Hegelian instruction,and DIANA would answer, but HAYWOOD is now center-stage,into the full swell of rhetoric --

HAYWOOD The ruling classes are running scared, right? You turned the full force of your cossack cops and paramilitary organs of repression against us. But now the slave masters hear the rumble of revolution in their ears. So you have no alternative but to co-opt us. Put us on teevee and pull our fangs. And we're supposed to sell out, right? For your gang- stergold? Well, we're not going to sell out, baby! You can take your fascist teevee and shove it right up your paramilitary ass! I'm here to tell you, we don't sell out! We don't want your gold! We're not going on your teevee!

A moment of HUSH, in which everybody digests this openingstatement.

DIANA (sighs, mutters) Oh, shit, Mr. Haywood, if you're not interested in my offer, why the hell did you bring two lawyers and three agents from the William Morris office along?

MURPHY (Mr. Cool) What Mr. Haywood was saying, Ms. Christenson, was that our client, Ms. Hobbs, wants it up front that the political content of the show has to be entirely in her control.

DIANA She can have it. I don't give a damn about the political content.

WALLIE What kind of show'd you have in mind, Diana?

DIANA We're interested in doing a weekly dramatic series based on the Ecumen- ical Liberation Army, and I'll tell you what the first show has to be -- a two-hour special on Mary Ann Gifford. We open this two-hour special with that bank rip-off footage, which is terrific stuff, and then we tell the story of how a rich young heiress like Mary Ann Gifford becomes a flaming revolutionary. Would you people be interested in making such a movie for us?

Everybody looks to LAUREEN HOBBS.

LAUREEN The Ecumenical Liberation Army is an ultra-left sect creating political confusion with wildcat violence and pseudo-insurrectionary acts, which the Communist Party does not endorse. The American masses are not yet ready for open revolt. We would not want to produce a television show cele- brating historically deviational terrorism.

DIANA Even better. I see the story this way. Poor little rich girl kid- napped by ultra-left sect. She falls in love with the leader of the gang, converts to his irrespon- sible violence. But then she meets you, understands the true nature of the ongoing people's struggle for a better society, and, in an emotion- drenched scene, she leaves her devia- tional lover and dedicates herself to you and the historical inevitability of the socialist state.

LAUREEN (smiles) That would be better, of course.

ED What kind of numbers are we talking, Diana?

DIANA We'll give you our top deal, which I think is two fifteen and twenty- five. You'll have to talk to Charlie Kinkaid about that. But as long as we're talking series now, I'll tell you what I want. I want a lot more film like the bank rip-off the Ecumenicals sent in. The way I see this series is every week we open with the authen- tic footage of an act of political terrorism, taken on the spot and in the actual moment; then we go into the drama behind the opening film footage. That's your job, Ms. Hobbs. You've got to get the Ecumenicals to bring in that film for us. The network can't deal with them directly. They are, after all, wanted criminals.

LAUREEN The Ecumenicals are an undisciplined ultra-left gang, and the leader is an eccentric to say the least. He calls himself the Great Ahmed Khan and wears a hussar's shako.

DIANA Ms. Hobbs, I'm offering you an hour

of prime-time television every week into which you can stick whatever propaganda you want. We're talking about thirty to fifty million people a shot. That's a lot better than handing out mimeographed pamphlets on ghetto street corners.

LAUREEN I'll have to take this matter to the Central Committee, and I'd better check this out with the Great Ahmed Khan.

DIANA I'll be in L.A. until Saturday, and I'd like to get this thing rolling. (smiles at SCHLESINGER, HERRON and KOSSOFF) That's going to be our Wednesday night. Seven to eight -- Howard Beale; eight to nine -- the Vigilantes; nine to ten -- the Mao Tse Tung Hour.

LAUREEN HOBBS, sitting on the stoop of the front porchtalking to another member of the Central Committee,a middle-aged white man named WITHERSPOON. The doorbehind them opens, and DOWLING, a young white man inhis 20's, wearing a fatigue jacket and torn Levi's anddark sunglasses, pokes his head out:

DOWLING Okay --

LAUREEN and WITHERSPOON rise, go up the steps andfollow DOWLING into --

117. INT. THE ECUMENICALS' HEADQUARTERS - ENTRANCE FOYER

Dark. An absolute shambles. Cartons, crates, news-papers and scraps of food have been littered about.A young black man, WATKINS, (early 20's, standing onthe stairway to the second floor holding an army rifle),watches LAUREEN and WITHERSPOON following DOWLING, andhimself follows them into --

118. INT. DINING ROOM

-- or what had been the dining room. A naked overheadBULB is the only light in here. Sitting on a woodenfolding chair is the GREAT AHMED KHAN, a powerful,brooding black man in his early 30's. He wears ahussar's shako and the crescent moon of the Midianiteshanging pendant around his neck. The chair he sits onis the only visible piece of furniture. There are twotattered sleeping bags on the floor, part of a generalwelter of torn newspapers, empty grocery bags, ham-burger leftovers, etc. The walls are bare except forblowups of Che Guevara, Mao, Marlon Brando and JaneFonda, scotch-taped to the torn wall-paper. Cartonsand crates here and there, automatic guns leaningagainst the walls. Boxes of ammunition and grenades

and mortar shells stacked against a wall. In atten-dance on the GREAT AHMED KHAN is a young black womanin her late 20's, named JENKINS, and a young whitewoman in her early 20's, MARY ANN GIFFORD, who is afire-eating militant with a bandolier of cartridgesacross her torn shirt and with a B.A.R. held in herhands. LAUREEN pulls up an empty crate, sits, wavesa limp hand of hello to the others and regards theGREAT KHAN --

LAUREEN Well, Ahmed, you ain't going to believe this, but I'm going to make a teevee star out of you. Just like Archie Bunker. You're going to be a household word.

AHMED What the fuck are you talking about?

MUSIC: A RATAPLAN OF KETTLEDRUMS AND A TARANTARA OFTRUMPETS.

119. INT. UBS BUILDING - NEW YORK - A CONTROL ROOM - MONDAY,JANUARY 27, 1975

Everybody murmuring away --

DIRECTOR (murmurs into mike) -- and one --

The Show Monitor cuts to a beaming ANNOUNCER --

ANNOUNCER Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it -- how do you feel?

SHOW MONITOR now shows packed AUDIENCE happily roaring:

AUDIENCE (roaring out) We're mad as hell, and we're not going to take this any more!

-- as the HOUSE LIGHTS go to BLACK. The curtain slowlyrises. An absolutely bare stage except for one stainedglass window, suspended by wires high above stage leftthrough which shoots an overpowering SHAFT of LIGHTas if emanating from heaven. HOWARD BEALE, in anaustere black suit with black tie shambles on from thewings, finds the SPOTLIGHT and stands there for a momentshielding his eyes from the blinding light. TUMULTUOUSAPPLAUSE from the AUDIENCE.

HOWARD (erupts into a Savonarola- type tirade) Edward George Ruddy died today! Edward George Ruddy was the Chairman of the Board of the Union Broad- casting Systems -- and woe is us if it ever falls in the hands of the wrong people. And that's why woe is us that Edward George Ruddy died. Because this network is now in the hands of CC and A the Communications Corporation of America. We've got a new Chairman of the Board, a man named Frank Hackett now sitting in Mr. Ruddy's office on the twentieth floor. And when the twelfth largest company in the world controls the most awesome goddamned propaganda force in the whole godless world, who knows what shit will be peddled for truth on this tube? So, listen to me! Television is not the truth! Tele- vision is a goddamned amusement park, that's what television is! Television is a circus, a carnival, a travelling troupe of acrobats and story-tellers, singers and dancers, jugglers, side-show freaks, lion- tamers and football players. We're in the boredom-killing business! If you want truth, go to God, go to your guru, go to yourself because that's the only place you'll ever find any real truth! But, man, you're never going to get any truth from us. We'll tell you anything you want to hear. We lie like hell! We'll tell you Kojack always gets the killer, and nobody ever gets cancer in Archie Bunker's house. And no matter how much trouble the hero is in, don't worry: just look at your watch -- at the end of the hour, he's going to win. We'll tell you any shit you want to hear!

We deal in illusion, man! None of it's true! But you people sit there -- all of you -- day after day, night after night, all ages, colors, creeds -- we're all you know. You're beginning to believe this illusion we're spinning here. You're be- ginning to think the tube is reality and your own lives are unreal. You do whatever the tube tells you. You dress like the tube, you eat like the tube, you raise your children like the tube, you think like the tube. This is mass madness, you maniacs! In God's name, you people are the real thing! We're the illu- sions! So turn off this goddam set! Turn it off right now! Turn it off and leave it off. Turn it off right now, right in the middle of this very sentence I'm speaking now --

At which point, HOWARD BEALE, sweating and red-eyed withhis prophetic rage, collapses to the floor in a pro-phetic swoon.

123. INT. CC AND A CONFERENCE ROOM - CC AND A BUILDING -MONDAY, JANUARY 27

A Valhalla of a room taking up the 43rd and 44th floorsof the CC and A Building. It is dark and theatrical,the lighting at the moment being provided by the shaftof LIGHT issuing from a slide projector at the back ofthe room onto a large SCREEN on the raised podium whereFRANK HACKETT in banker's gray stands making his annualreport. On the SCREEN, we see charts of figures, oneafter the other, which accompany HACKETT's explication.A little red ARROW darts from one figure to another asHACKETT drones on. Seated in a semi-circular arrange-ment like a miniature United Nations are 214 SENIOREXECUTIVES, (late 40's, 50's, and 60's). They eachhave their own little desks with swivel chairs, pin-spot lights, piles of bound company reports, and nameplates giving their names and companies they represent.NOTE one specific CHAIR in the dead center of the firstrow that swivels back and forth, back and forth --

HACKETT (on podium) -- UBS was running at a cash-flow breakeven point after taking into account one hundred and ten million dollars of negative cash-flow from the network. Note please the added thirty-five millions resulting from the issuance of the subordinated sink- ing debentures. It was clear the fat on the network had to be flitched off --

ANOTHER CLOSER ANGLE on the CHAIR in the first row thatkeeps swiveling back and forth.

HACKETT (on podium, as a new glide of charts flashes on screen) Please note an increase in pro- jected initial programming rev- enues in the amount of twenty-one million dollars due to the phenom- enal success of the Howard Beale show. I expect a positive cash- flow for the entire complex of forty-five million achievable in this fiscal year, a year, in short, ahead of schedule --

ANOTHER ANGLE closer on the swiveling CHAIR but stillnot revealing its occupant.

HACKETT I go beyond that. This network may well be the most significant profit center of the communications complex --

FULL SHOT of HACKETT barely concealing his pride --

HACKETT -- and, based upon the projected rate of return on invested capital, and if merger is eventually accomplished, the communications complex may well become the towering and most profit- able center in the entire CC and A empire. I await your questions and comments. Mr. Jensen?

CAMERA PANS ACROSS the huge dark room of tiered seatsto the swiveling CHAIR in the front row which nowswivels to face CAMERA, revealing a short, balding,bespectacled man with a Grant Woods face. This isARTHUR JENSEN, the President and Chairman of the Boardof CC and A.

JENSEN (murmurs) Very good, Frank. Exemplary. Keep it up --

TIGHT SHOT of HACKETT, basking in this praise, suffusedwith pride --

124. INT. TEMPLE EMANUEL - NEW YORK - TUESDAY, JANUARY 28 -10:30 A.M.

EDWARD GEORGE RUDDY lying in state.

ANOTHER ANGLE showing the vaulted reaches of the Templepacked with a standing room audience of condolers withthe white yarmalka-ed RABBI in b.g. officiating. Allthe NETWORK BRASS are spotted around the congregation.

CLOSER ANGLE ACROSS MAX among the condolers, followinghis eyes to several rows of pews down on the other sideof the aisle where DIANA is sitting. Aware of MAX'seyes on her, she turns her face a bit so that their eyesmeet briefly. She smiles, turns back to the RABBI'seulogy --

125. EXT. 65TH STREET - MAIN ENTRANCE - TEMPLE EMANUEL - DAY -SNOW

SNOW drifting down. CROWD of overcoated condolers flood-ing the sidewalk. A cortege of black limousines linedup in front of the temple as FUNERAL DIRECTORS guidecondolers into their respective limousines. A curiouscrowd of PASSERSBY watch. MAX SCHUMACHER threads hisway through the CRUSH to where DIANA CHRISTENSON stands,murmuring to NELSON CHANEY and WALTER AMUNDSEN, all

bundled up in winter coats. There are muttered "Hello,Max, how are you's" and "How's everything, Walter," etc.

MAX (to DIANA) Buy you a cup of coffee?

DIANA Hell, yes.

Good-byes all around, and MAX and DIANA move off throughthe fringe of the CRUSH on the sidewalk. CAMERA DOLLIESwith them. They turn the corner onto --

126. EXT. FIFTH AVENUE - DAY - SNOW

They head downtown. They walk silently. SNOW driftsdown on them. CAMERA DOLLIES with them.

MAX Do you have to get back to the office?

DIANA Nothing that can't wait.

They walk on silently.

DIANA (after a moment) I drop down to the news studios every now and then and ask Howard Beale about you. He says you're doing fine. Are you?

MAX No.

DIANA Are you keeping busy?

MAX After a fashion. This is the third funeral I've been to in two weeks. I have two other friends in hospital whom I visit regularly. I've been to a couple of christenings. All my friends seem to be dying or having grandchildren.

DIANA You should be a grandfather about now. You have a pregnant daughter in Seattle, don't you?

MAX Any day now. My wife's out there for the occasion. I've thought many times of calling you.

DIANA I wish you had.

They both suddenly stop on Fifth Avenue between 65thand 64th Streets and regard each other. An occasionalsnowflake moistens their cheeks, wets their hair.

DIANA I bumped into Sybil the Soothsayer in the elevator last week. I said: "You know, Sybil, about four months ago, you predicted I would get involved with a middle-aged man, and, so far, all that's happened is one many-splendored night. I don't call that getting involved." And she said: "Don't worry. You will." It was a many-splendored night, wasn't it, Max?

MAX Yes, it was.

DIANA Are we going to get involved, Max?

MAX Yes. I need to get involved very much. How about you?

DIANA I've reached for the phone to call

you a hundred times, but I was sure you hated me for my part in taking your news show away.

MAX I probably did. I don't know any more. All I know is I can't keep you out of my mind.

They stare at each other, bemused by the abrupt fragileexplosion of their feelings. The SNOW drifts down.PEDESTRIANS move back and forth around them. The FifthAvenue TRAFFIC honks and grinds its way downtown.

DIANA My God, she's uncanny.

MAX Who?

DIANA Sybil the Soothsayer. We've got a modern-day Greek drama here, Max. Two star-crossed lovers ordained to fall disastrously in love by the gods. A December-May story. Happily married middle-aged man meets desperately lonely young career woman, let's say a violinist. They both know their illicit love can only end in tragedy, but they are cursed by the gods and plunge dementedly in love. For a few brief moments, they are happy. He abandons devoted wife and loving children, and she throws away her concert career. Their friends plead with them to give each other up, but they are helpless playthings in the hands of malignant gods. Their love sours, embittered by ugly little jealousies, cryptic rancors. The soothsayer appears again and warns the girl she will die if she per- sists in this heedless love affair. She defies the soothsayer. But now one of the man's children is rushed to the hospital with a mysterious disease. He rushes back to his family, and she is left to throw herself on the railroad tracks. Give me a two-page outline on it, Max. I might be able to sell it to Xerox.

MAX A bit too austere for teevee, I think.

DIANA You're right. We wouldn't get an 11 rating. How about a twist on Brief Encounter? Happily married man meets woman married to her career.

MAX NBC did Brief Encounter last year, and it sank.

DIANA Well, we're both a bit long in the tooth to try for Romeo and Juliet.

MAX Why don't we just wing it?

She laughs, then he. A PASSERBY darts them a curiousglance.

127. INT. MAX'S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - MONDAY, FEBRUARY25TH

MAX and his wife, LOUISE, in the middle of an uglydomestic scene. LOUISE sits erect on an overstuffedchair, her eyes wet with imminent tears; MAX stridesaround the room. He is clearly under great stress.

LOUISE (shrilly) How long has it been going on?

MAX (prowling around the room) A month. I thought at first it might be a transient thing and blow over in a week. I still hope to God it's just a menopausal infatuation. But it is an infa- tuation, Louise. There's no sense my saying I won't see her again because I will. Do you want me to clear out, go to a hotel?

LOUISE Do you love her?

MAX I don't know how I feel. I'm grateful I still feel anything. I know I'm obsessed with her.

LOUISE (erupts) Then get out, go to a hotel, go anywhere you want, go live with her, but don't come back! Because after twenty-five years of building a home and raising a family and all the senseless pain we've inflicted on each other, I'll be damned if I'll just stand here and let you tell me you love somebody else! (now it's she striding around, weeping, a caged lioness) Because this isn't just some con- vention weekend with your secretary, is it? Or some broad you picked up after three belts of booze. This is your great winter romance, isn't it?, your last roar of passion be- fore you sink into your emeritus years. Is that what's left for me? Is that my share? She gets the great winter passion, and I get the dotage? Am I supposed to sit at home knitting and purling till you slink back like a penitent drunk? I'm your wife, damn it! If you can't work up a winter passion for me, then the least I require is respect and allegiance! I'm hurt! Don't you understand that? I'm hurt badly!

She stares, her cheeks streaked with tears, at MAXstanding at the terrace glass door, staring blindlyout, his own eyes wet and welling. After a moment,he turns and regards his anguished wife.

LOUISE Say something, for God's sake.

MAX I've got nothing to say.

He enfolds her; she sobs on his chest.

LOUISE (after a moment) Are you that deeply involved with her?

MAX Yes.

LOUISE I won't give you up easily, Max.

He struggles to restrain his tears. She releases her-self from his embrace.

LOUISE I think the best thing is if you did move out. Does she love you, Max?

MAX I'm not sure she's capable of any real feelings. She's the television generation. She learned life from Bugs Bunny. The only reality she knows is what comes over her teevee set. She has devised a variety of scenarios for us all to play, as if it were a Movie of the Week. And, my God!, look at us, Louise. Here we are going through the obli- gatory middle-of-Act-Two scorned wife throws peccant husband out scene. But, no fear, I'll come back home in the end. All her plot outlines have me leaving her and returning to you because the audience won't buy a rejection of the happy American family. She does have one script in which I kill myself, an adapted for television version of Anna Karenina in which she's Count Vronsky and I'm Anna.

DIANA, murmuring into her squawk box and, at the sametime, putting last minute things into a weekend bag.She is ebullient --

DIANA (on squawk box) ... I know what NBC offered them, Marty, so I'm saying go to three point five, and I want an option for a third run on all of them ... Marty, I'm in a big hurry, and you and Charlie are supposed to be negotiating this, so goodbye and good luck, and I'll see you Monday ...

Clicks off her squawk box, snaps her weekend bag shut,whisks her sheep wool-lined coat out of her closet andstrides out into --

129. INT. DIANA'S SECRETARY'S OFFICE

-- where there is no one sitting, and continues outinto --

130. INT. PROGRAMMING DEPARTMENT - COMMON ROOM

where a few SECRETARIES are still at their desks.TOMMY PELLEGRINO is just coming out of his office --

PELLEGRINO (calls to DIANA) Jimmy Caan's agent just called and says absolutely nix.

DIANA (striding across the room) You can't win them all.

PELLEGRINO Where can I reach you later today?

DIANA (exiting) You can't. I'll be gone all weekend.

PELLEGRINO turns to BARBARA SCHLESINGER now poking herhead out of her office --

MAX SCHUMACHER in a rented Chevy, leaning across toopen the door for her. She slips into the front seat,slams the door shut, nestles her head on MAX'S over-coated shoulder, as he starts the ignition --

DIANA (happy and in love) NBC's offering three point two and a half mil per for a package of five James Bond pictures, and I think I'm going to steal them for three point five with a third run --

They move out into the heavy traffic of Sixth Avenue --

133. EXT. DESERTED BEACH IN THE HAMPTONS - DUSK

Traditional lyric love scene. The two mackinawedlovers walking hand-in-hand on a lovely stretch ofdeserted winter beach. The tide is coming in --

DIANA (bubbling) The vigilante show is sold firm. Ford took a complete position at, so help me, five-fifty CPM. In fact, I'm moving the vigilante show to nine and I'm going to stick the Mao Tse Tung Hour in at eight because we're having a lot of trouble selling the Mao Tse Tung Hour. This way we give it a terrific lead-in from the Howard Beale Show and we'll back into the vigilantes, and it certainly ought to carry its own time slot --

134. INT. A ROMANTIC LITTLE ITALIAN RESTAURANT

The obligatory Italian restaurant, checkered table-cloth, candles, wine, etc. DIANA and MAX at dinner,utterly rapt in each other --

DIANA (pouring out her heart) That Mao Tse Tung Hour is turning into one big pain in the ass. We're having heavy legal problems with the federal government right now. Two FBI guys turned up in Hackett's office last week and served us with a subpoena. They heard about our Flagstaff bank rip-off film, and they want it. We're getting around that by doing the show in collaboration with the News Division, so Hackett told the FBI to fuck off; we're standing on the First Amendment, freedom of the press, and the

right to protect our sources --

135. EXT. MOTOR COURT - NIGHT

DIANA and MAX getting out of their car and headingfor one of the ground-level rooms, MAX unlocking thedoor --

MAX flicks the light on, kicks the door shut, and theyare instantly into each other's arms in a passionateembrace.

DIANA -- but he says absolutely nix on going to series. They'll hit us with inducement and conspiracy to commit a crime --

She busily removes her shoes and unbuttons her blouseand whisks out of her slacks; and, down to her bikinipanties, she is now scouring the walls for a thermostat.

DIANA Christ, it's cold in here -- (she turns up the heat) You see we're paying these nuts from the Ecumenical Liberation Army ten thousand bucks a week to bring in authentic film footage on their revolutionary activities, and that constitutes inducement to commit a crime; and Walter says we'll all wind up in federal prison --

Nubile and nearly naked, she entwines herself aroundMAX, who, by now, has stripped down to his trousers;and the two hungering bodies slide down onto the bedwhere they commence an affable moment of amativeforeplay --

DIANA (efficiently unbuckling and unzippering MAX's trousers) -- I said: "Walter, let the government sue us! We'll take them to the Supreme Court! We'll be front page for months! The Washington Post and the New York Times will be doing two editorials a week about us! We'll have more press than Watergate!"

Groping, grasping, gasping and fondling, they contriveto denude each other, and, in a fever of sexual hunger,DIANA mounts MAX, and the SCREEN is filled with thevoluptuous writhings of love, DIANA crying out withincreasing exultancy --

DIANA (in the throes of passion) -- All I need -- is six weeks of federal litigation -- and the Mao Tse Tung Hour -- can start carrying its own time slot!

She screams in consummation, sighs a long, deliciouslyshuddering sigh, and sinks softly down into MAX'sembrace. For a moment, she rests her head on MAX'schest, eyes closed in feline contentment.

DIANA (after a moment, she purrs) What's really bugging me now is my daytime programming. NBC's got a lock on daytime with their lousy game shows, and I'd like to bust them. I'm thinking of doing a homosexual soap opera -- The Dykes -- the heart-rending saga of a woman helplessly in love with her husband's mistress. What do you think? --

NARRATOR The Mary Ann Gifford pilot movie went on the air March 14th --

137. EXT. A SMALL ISOLATED FARMHOUSE IN ENCINO - NIGHT

A black LIMOUSINE winds its way up the dirt road tothe front porch, where the car is halted and checkedout by an armed guard (DOWLING) --

NARRATOR -- It received a 47 share in its first hour, climbing to a 51 during its second hour --

Slivers of lights slither out from behind the drawnshades of the farmhouse, and we can hear the sounds ofANGRY VOICES.

TWO AGENTS from ICM disgorge from the limousine -- ayoung man in his early 30's, FREDDIE, carrying a largemanila envelope, and a fat young woman in her mid-30's,HELEN MIGGS, carrying an attach, case --

Cartons, crates, newspapers, scraps of food, torngrocery bags, stacks of pamphlets, cases of weapons andammunition, broken furniture and sleeping bags arelittered every which way about. There seems to be somesort of conference going on in the living room, O.S.left --

NARRATOR -- with an option for ten more --

139. As the TWO ICM AGENTS head for the living room,we can see LAUREEN HOBBS and the three WilliamNorris agents, WALLIE, LENNIE and ED, perhapsremembered from earlier scenes. We can also seethe GREAT AHMED KHAN, still wearing his shako, MARYANN GIFFORD, still wearing her bandoliers of bullets,and OTHER MEMBERS of the Khan's group in fatiguesand bearing arms. There is also a middle-aged LAWYERfrom ICM named WILLIE STEIN. Everybody -- with theexception of the GREAT KHAN's retinue -- is seatedon broken chairs and cartons and crates --

NARRATOR -- There were, of course, the usual production difficulties --

Everybody in the living room conference is studying80-page contracts from which one of the agents (WALLIE)is reading --

WALLIE (mumbling along) -- "herein called either 'the Production Fee' or 'overhead' equal to twenty percent two-oh (except such percentage shall be thirty percent three-oh for ninety minute or longer television programs --

140. INT. THE FARMHOUSE - LIVING ROOM

STEIN (a nervous man, to the new arrivals, now entering) Where the hell have you been?

MIGGS (embracing the GREAT KHAN) Ahmed, sweet, that dodo you sent for a driver couldn't find this fucking place.

There is a genial exchange of helloes and waves betweenthe phalanxes of AGENTS --

STEIN Let's get on with this before they raid this place, and we all wind up in the joint.

ED (to FREDDIE now pulling up a crate) We're on Schedule A, page seven, small c small i --

MIGGS (whisking through her copy of the contract) Have we settled that sub-licensing thing? We want a clear definition here. Gross proceeds should consist of all funds the sublicensee receives not merely the net amount remitted after payment to sublicensee or distributor.

STEIN We're not sitting still for over- head charges as a cost prior to distribution.

LAUREEN (whose nerves have worn thin, explodes:) Don't fuck with my distribution costs! I'm getting a lousy two- fifteen per segment, and I 'm already deficiting twenty-five grand a week with Metro. I'm paying William Morris ten percent off the top! (indicates the GREAT KHAN) -- And I'm giving this turkey ten thou a segment and another five for this fruitcake -- (meaning MARY ANN GIFFORD) And, Helen, don't start no shit with me about a piece again! I'm paying Metro twenty percent of all foreign and Canadian distribution, and that's after recoupment! The Communist Party's not going to see a nickel out of this goddam show until we go into syndication!

MIGGS Come on, Laureen, you've got the party in there for seventy-five hundred a week production expenses.

LAUREEN I'm not giving this pseudo in- surrectionary sectarian a piece of my show! I'm not giving him script approval! And I sure as shit ain't cutting him in on my distribution charges I

MARY ANN GIFFORD (screaming in from the back) Fuggin fascist! Have you seen the movies we took at the San Marino jail break-out demonstrating the rising up of a seminal prisoner- class infrastructure!

LAUREEN You can blow the seminal prisoner- class infrastructure out your ass! I'm not knocking down my goddam distribution charges!

The GREAT KHAN decides to offer an opinion by SHOOTINGhis PISTOL off into the air. This gives everybodysomething to consider, especially WILLIE STEIN whoalmost has a heart attack.

THE GREAT KHAN Man, give her the fucking over- head clause.

STEIN How did I get here? Who's going to believe this? I'm sitting here in a goddam farm in Encino at ten o'clock at night negotiating over- head charges with cowboys!

THE GREAT KHAN (flipping through his copy) Let's get to page twenty-two, five, small a, subsidiary rights.

Everybody starts flipping through their contracts.

LENNIE Where are we now?

WALLIE Page twenty-two, middle of the page, subsidiary rights -- (begins to read) "As used herein, 'subsidiary rights' means, without limitation, any and all rights with respect to theatrical motion picture rights, radio broadcasting, legiti- mate stage performances, printed publications (including, but not limited to, hard-cover books, but excluding paperback books and comic books) and/or any other uses of a similar or dissimilar nature --

Across the marquee, looking down on the CRUSH of stationmanagers, program executives and sales vice-presidentsfrom the various affiliates, all tuxedoed andevening-gowned and milling about. Spotted in thecheerful CRUSH can be seen DIANA, MR. AND MRS. AMUNDSEN,MR. AND MRS. ZANGWILL, jollying it up with theaffiliates' executives and their wives --

PAN DOWN to show 1000 tuxedoed and evening-gownedPEOPLE, mostly middle-aged in the vast shuffle ofcocktail time -- HUBBUB, intermingling flux and aslow general shuffling surge through the doorsleading into --

143. INT. GRAND BALLROOM

CLOSER ANGLE of the CRUSH of PEOPLE at the doors.HERBERT THACKERAY, (VP Stations Relations,) and NORMANMOLDANIAN (VP Owned Stations,) with their WIVES andcarrying their drinks and exchanging pleasantries withthe GENERAL MANAGER of WJGL Cincinnati and his WIFE andthe GENERAL MANAGER of KBEX Albuquerque and his WIFE aswell as the SALES MANAGER of that station and his WIFE.High CHATTER and HUBBUB, lots of hearty chuckles andgeneral Rotarian bonhomie. In b.g., FRANK HACKETT andhis WIFE exchanging Rotarian bonhomie with some otherGENERAL MANAGERS and PROGRAM DIRECTORS and SALESMANAGERS of various affiliates and their WIVES --

144. ANOTHER ANGLE as DIANA, evening-gowned, beautiful,glowing and effulgent, leans down from her place on thedais to accept congratulatory comments from the SALESMANAGER of KGIM, Boise, and his WIFE standing on thefloor level --

SALES MANAGER I just want to tell you we saw your great stuff this afternoon, Di -- it was great --

DIANA Great, Millard --

She turns to accept some more enthusiastic greetingsfrom another GENERAL MANAGER and his WIFE being broughtdown the dais to her by WALTER AMUNDSEN, (GeneralCounsel Network) --

145. WIDE ANGLE SHOT of the whole ballroom, dark, everybodyseated at their tables now, listening to an address byNELSON CHANEY (President UBS Network), a spotlightedfigure at the podium --

CHANEY -- Over the past two days, you've all had opportunity to meet Diana Christenson, our Vice President in charge of programming. This afternoon, you all saw some of the stuff she's set up for the new season --

CLOSER SHOT of CHANEY --

CHANEY You all know she's the woman behind the Howard Beale show. We know she's beautiful. We know she's brainy. I just think, before we start digging into our Chateau- briands, we ought to let her know how we feel about her --

An OVATION from the AUDIENCE. In response to CHANEY'sbeckoning, DIANA rises from her chair in the glisteningshadows of the dais and comes down to the podium. Shestands there -- showered with APPLAUSE, beaming,exultant --

DIANA We've got the number one show in television! (applause) And, at next year's affiliates' meeting, I'll be standing here telling you we've got the top five! (tumult)

ANOTHER ANGLE ACROSS HACKETT at the dais with DIANAin b.g. An ASSISTANT MANAGER leans across HACKETTand murmurs to him --

DIANA Last year, we were the number four network -- next year, we're number one! (tumult)

HACKETT rises, murmurs apologies to his neighbors,follows the ASSISTANT MANAGER through the shadows ofthe dais and heads out --

DIANA It is exactly seven o'clock here in Los Angeles. And right now over a million homes using television in this city are turning their dials to channel 3-- and that's our channel!

STUDIO AUDIENCE (ON TV) (happily roaring out) We're mad as hell, and we're not going to take this any more!

PULL BACK to show we are in the vast cocktail area ofthe Grand Ballroom, now being cleared away by a staff ofWAITERS and BUSBOYS -- hors d'oeuvres, spreads and boozebeing carried away, table and chairs being packed off,linens being whisked and folded. A couple of WAITERSare watching the Howard Beale show on the portable TVset perched on the room's bar --

On the TV set, the house lights go down, the curtainrises, and, as before, bare stage, shimmering stainedglass window, an ethereal shaft of light, and HOWARDBEALE in his austere black suit trudges out andexplodes --

HOWARD (ON TV) All right, listen to me! Listen carefully! This is your goddam life I'm talking about today! In this country, when one company takes over another company, they simply buy up a controlling share of the stock. But first they have to file notice with the government. That's how C.C. and A. -- the Communications Corporation of America -- bought up the company that owns this network. And now somebody's buying up C.C. and A! Some company named Western World Funding Corporation is buying up C.C. and A! They filed their notice this morning! Well, just who the hell is Western World Funding Corporation? It's a consortium of banks and insurance companies who are not buying C.C. and A. for themselves but as agents for somebody else!

147. LONG WIDE ANGLE SHOT with TV set in f.g. showing thespacious cocktail area being cleared away, as far acrossthe room the doors to the Ballroom open and HACKETTfollows the ASSISTANT MANAGER in. HACKETT lingers atthe doors while the ASSISTANT MANAGER gets a WAITER tobring a jack phone to one of the tables still standing --

REVERSE ACROSS HACKETT as a jack phone is brought tohis table; the cluster around the TV set in b.g.

HACKETT (on phone) This is Mr. Hackett, do you have a New York call for me? (calls to cluster around TV set) Do you want to turn that down, please --

REVERSE ACROSS TV set with HACKETT in b.g.

HOWARD (ON TV) (volume a bit down) Well, I'll tell you who they're buying C.C. and A. for. They're buying it for the Saudi-Arabian Investment Corporation! They're buying it for the Arabs!

REVERSE ON HACKETT.

HACKETT (on phone, the hearty executive) Clarence? Frank Hackett here I How's everything back in New York? How's the good lady? -- (his face sobers) -- All right, take it easy, Clarence, I don't know what you're talking about...When?...Clarence, take it easy. The Howard Beale show's just going on out here. You guys get it three hours earlier in New York ... Clarence, take it easy. How the hell could I see it? It's just on now -- Well, when did Mr. Jensen call you?

REVERSE ACROSS TV set. In b.g., HACKETT has hung up and isslowly walking toward the group around the TV set --

HOWARD (ON TV) -- We know the Arabs control more than sixteen billion dollars in this country! They own a chunk of Fifth Avenue, twenty downtown pieces of Boston, a part of the port of New Orleans, an industrial park in Salt Lake city. They own big hunks of the Atlanta Hilton, the Arizona Land and cattle Company, the Security National Bank in California, the Bank of the Commonwealth in Detroit! They control ARAMCO, so that puts them into Exxon, Texaco and Mobil oil! They're all over - New Jersey, Louisville, St.Louis, Missouri! And that's only what we know about! There's a hell of a lot more we don't know about because all those Arab petro-dollars are washed through Switzerland and Canada and the biggest banks in this country!

HACKETT peers over the shoulder of a WAITER to watch thetelevision show --

HOWARD (ON TV) For example, what we don't know about is this C.C.A. deal and all the other C.C.A. deals! (HACKETT winces) Right now, the Arabs have screwed us out of enough American dollars to come back and, with our own money, buy General Motors, IBM, ITT, A T and T, Dupont, U.S. Steel, and twenty other top American companies. Hell, they already own half of England.

HOWARD' (ON SCREEN) Now, listen to me, goddammit! The Arabs are simply buying us! They're buying all our land, our whole economy, the press, the factories, financial institutions, the government! They're going to own us! A handful of agas, shahs and emirs who despise this country and everything it stands for -- democracy, freedom, the right for me to get up on television and tell you about it -- a couple of dozen medieval fanatics are going to own where you work, where you live, what you read, what you see, your cars, your bowling alleys, your mortgages, your schools, your churches, your libraries, your kids, your whole life! --

AMUNDSEN (mutters) The son of a bitch is effective all right --

HACKETT, who's seen all this already, isn't even watching.He is sprawled in his chair, eyes closed, numbed, evenserene with despair.

HOWARD (ON SCREEN) -- And there's not a single law on the books to stop them! There's only one thing that can stop them -- you! So I want you to get up now. I want you to get out of your chairs and go to the phone. Right now. I want you to go to your phone or get in your car and drive into the Western Union office in town. I want everybody listening to me to get up right now and send a telegram to the White House --

HACKETT (sighs in soft anguish) Oh, God

HOWARD (ON SCREEN) By midnight tonight I want a million telegrams in the White House! I want them wading knee-deep in telegrams at the White House! Get up! Right now! And send President Ford a telegram saying: "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take this any more! I don't want the banks selling my country to the Arabs! I want this C.C. and A. deal stopped now! --

At which point, HOWARD keels over in his now familiarprophetic swoon. On SCREEN, ATTENDANTS come and carryHOWARD off --

CHANEY (to a TECHNICIAN) Is that it? Does he come back later in the show?

TECHNICIAN That's it. This is one of those shows he just zonks out.

CHANEY (to HACKETT) Do you want to see any more, Frank? (HACKETT sits in numb silence) All right, turn it off --

The other TECHNICIAN pushes a button and the SCREENgoes white. The first TECHNICIAN flicks the roomlights on.

AMUNDSEN (to HACKETT) Do you want to go to your office?

HACKETT stares silently into space.

CHANEY (to the TECHNICIANS) Look, could we have the room?

TECHNICIAN Sure.

149. The two TECHNICIANS exit. SILENCE fills the clutteredroom. AMUNDSEN and HACKETT sit in their chairs, CHANEYleans against a side wall, DIANA lounges against a rearwall. After a moment, AMUNDSEN stretches, stands --

AMUNDSEN Well, I'd like to see a typescript and run it a couple of more times, but I don't think he said anything seriously actionable. But, as for this whole C.C. and A. deal with the Saudis, you'd know a lot more about that than I would, Frank, is it true?

HACKETT sighs.

HACKETT (mumbles) Yes. C.C. and A. has two billions in loans with the Saudis, and they hold every pledge we've got. We need that Saudi money bad. (he stands, so wretched he is tranquil) A disaster. This show is a disaster, an unmitigated disaster, the death knell. I'm ruined, I'm dead, I'm finished.

CHANEY Maybe we're overstating Beale's clout with the public.

HACKETT An hour ago, Clarence McElheny called me from New York. It was ten o'clock in the East, and our people in the White House report they were already knee-deep in telegrams. By tomorrow morning, they'll be suffocating in telegrams.

CHANEY Well, can the government stop the deal?

HACKETT They can hold it up. The SEC could hold this deal up for twenty years if they wanted to. I'm finished. Any second that phone's going to ring and Clarence McElheny's going to tell me Mr. Jensen wants me in his office tomorrow morning so he can personally chop my head off.

Tears stream shamelessly down his cheeks as he shuffles,a broken man, around the room.

HACKETT Four hours ago, I was the sun God at C.C. and A., Mr. Jensen's hand- picked golden boy, the heir apparent. Now I'm a man without a corporation!

DIANA (comes off the back wall) Let's get back to Howard Beale. You're not seriously going to pull Beale off the air.

HACKETT Mr. Jensen is unhappy with Howard Beale and wants him discontinued.

DIANA He may be unhappy, but he isn't stupid enough to withdraw the number one show on television out of pique.

DIANA What for? Every other network will grab him the minute he walks out the door. He'll be back on the air for ABC tomorrow. And we'll lose twenty points in audience share in the first week, roughly a forty million loss in revenues for the year.

HACKETT I'm going to kill Howard Beale! I'm going to impale the son of a bitch with a sharp stick through the heart!

DIANA And let's not discount federal action by the Justice Department. If C.C. and A. pulls Beale off the air as an act of retribution, that's a flagrant violation of network autonomy and an egregious breach of the consent decree.

HACKETT (beginning to like his new train of thought) I'll take out a contract on him. I'll hire professional killers. I'll do it myself. I'll strangle him with a sashcord.

DIANA No, I don't think Jensen is going to fire anybody. He's sitting up there in his office surrounded by lawyers and senior vice presidents, and right about now, they've begun to realize the extraordinary impact of television. That impact can be focused, manipulated, utilized. If Howard Beale can hurt them, he can help them.

The PHONE RINGS. A moment of anxious silence. HACKETTpicks it up --

HACKETT (on phone) Hackett -- Yes, Clarence, I've already booked my flight ... Well, can you give me a little more time than that? I've got the red-eye flight, I won't be back in New York till six tomorrow morning ... That'll be just fine. I'll see you then --

A black limousine pulls to the curb in front of the C.C.and A. Building, disgorging HACKETT, and, a momentlater, HOWARD BEALE, both dressed in banker's gray. Asthey move for the building's entrance, HACKETT herdingHOWARD along, it becomes clear that HOWARD is in abeatified state. His eyes glisten transcendentally, andhe smiles the smile of the elevated spirit. He suddenlypulls up abruptly, raises his arms over his head, andannounces at the top of his lungs:

HOWARD (imbued) The final revelation is at hand! I have seen the shattering fulgurations of ultimate clarity! The light is impending! I bear witness to the light!

This outburst doesn't seem to bother most of the PEOPLEpassing by except for ONE or TWO who murmur: "Hey,that's Howard Beale, isn't it?" The outburst doesappall FRANK HACKETT, who stares in distress andentreaty to some god in the heavens, and clutches atHOWARD's arm to get him moving again.

151. INT. ARTHUR JENSEN'S OFFICE

An enormous office with two walls of windows toweringover the Manhattan landscape and through which SUNLIGHTstreams in. ARTHUR JENSEN is rising from behind hismassive desk --

JENSEN Good afternoon, Mr. Beale. They tell me you're a madman.

CAMERA DOLLIES to include HOWARD just coming into theroom.

HOWARD (closing the door behind himself) Only desultorily.

JENSEN How are you now?

HOWARD (as mad as a hatter) I'm as mad as a hatter.

JENSEN Who isn't? Don't sit down. I'm taking you to our conference room which seems more seemly a setting for what I have to say to you.

He takes HOWARD'S arm and moves him to a large oakendoor leading out of JENSEN'S office --

JENSEN I started as a salesman, Mr. Beale. I sold sewing machines and automobile parts, hair brushes and electronic equipment. They say I can sell anything. I'd like to try and sell something to you --

They pass into --

152. INT. THE CONFERENCE ROOM - C.C. AND A. BUILDING

The overwhelming cathedral of a conference roomremembered perhaps from an earlier scene where FrankHackett gave his annual report. When last seen, it wasin pitch darkness, but now the enormous curtains are up,and an almost celestial light pours in through the hugewindows. Being on the 43rd and 44th floors, the skyoutside is only sporadically interrupted by the towersof other skyscrapers. The double semi- circular bank ofseats are all empty, and the general effect is one ofhushed vastness --

JENSEN Valhalla, Mr. Beale, please sit down --

He leads HOWARD down the steps to the floor level,himself ascends again to the small stage and the podium.HOWARD sits in one of the 200 odd seats. JENSEN pushesa button, and the enormous drapes slowly fall, slicingaway layers of light until the vast room is utterlydark. Then, the little pinspots at each of the desks,including the one behind which HOWARD is seated, pop on,creating a miniature Milky Way effect. A shaft of whiteLIGHT shoots out from the rear of the room, spottingJENSEN on the podium, a sun of its own little galaxy.Behind him, the shadowed white of the lecture screen.JENSEN suddenly wheels to his audience of one and roarsout:

JENSEN You have meddled with the primal forces of nature, Mr. Beale, and I won't have it, is that clear?! You think you have merely stopped a business deal -- that is not the case! The Arabs have taken billions of dollars out of this country, and now they must put it back. It is ebb and flow, tidal gravity, it is ecological balance! You are an old man who thinks in terms of nations and peoples. There are no nations! There are no peoples! There are no Russians. There are no Arabs! There are no third worlds! There is no West! There is only one holistic system of systems, one vast and immane, interwoven, interacting, multi-variate, multi-national dominion of dollars! petro-dollars, electro-dollars, multi-dollars!, Reichmarks, rubles, rin, pounds and shekels! It is the international system of currency that determines the totality of life on this planet! That is the natural order of things today! That is the atomic, subatomic and galactic structure of things today! And you have meddled with the primal forces of nature, and you will atone! Am I getting through to you, Mr. Beale? (pause) You get up on your little twenty- one inch screen, and howl about America and democracy. There is no America. There is no democracy. There is only IBM and ITT and A T and T and Dupont, Dow, Union Carbide and Exxon. Those are the nations of the world today. What do you think the Russians talk about in their councils of state -- Karl Marx? They pull out their linear programming charts, statistical decision theories and minimax solutions and compute the price-cost probabilities of their transactions and investments just like we do. We no longer live in a world of nations and ideologies, Mr. Beale. The world is a college of corporations, inexorably deter- mined by the immutable by-laws of business. The world is a business, Mr. Beale! It has been since man crawled out of the slime, and our children, Mr. Beale, will live to see that perfect world in which there is no war and famine, oppression and brutality -- one vast and ecumenical holding

company, for whom all men will work to serve a common profit, in which all men will hold a share of stock, all necessities provided, all anxieties tranquilized, all boredom amused. And I have chosen you to preach this evangel, Mr. Beale.

HOWARD (humble whisper) Why me?

JENSEN Because you're on television, dummy. Sixty million people watch you every night of the week, Monday through Friday.

HOWARD slowly rises from the blackness of his seat sothat he is lit only by the ethereal diffusion of lightshooting out from the rear of the room. He stares atJENSEN spotted on the podium, transfixed.

HOWARD I have seen the face of God!

In b.g., up on the podium, JENSEN considers thiscurious statement for a moment.

JENSEN You just might be right, Mr. Beale.

NARRATOR That evening, Howard Beale went on the air to preach the corporate cosmology of Arthur Jensen.

153. INT. NETWORK NEWS CONTROL ROOM

The CREW at their various control panels. Businessas usual. If anything, EVERYBODY in the control roomappears a little more bored. On the SHOW MONITOR,HOWARD BEALE stands in his stained-glass-filteredspotlight, but, rather than his old enraged self, heseems sad, resigned, weary --

HOWARD (ON MONITOR) (sad, resigned, weary) Last night, I got up here and asked you people to stand up and fight for your heritage, and you did and it was beautiful. Six million telegrams were received at the White House. The Arab takeover of C.C. and A. has been stopped. The people spoke, the people won. It was a radiant eruption of democracy. But I think that was it, fellers. That sort of thing isn't likely to happen again. Because, in the bottom of all our terrified souls, we all know that democracy is a dying giant, a sick, sick dying, decaying political concept, writhing in its final pain.

I don't mean the United States is finished as a world power. The United States is the most powerful, the richest, the most advanced country in the world, light-years ahead of any other country. And I don't mean the Communists are going to take over the world. The Communists are deader than we are. What's finished is the idea that this great country is dedicated to the freedom and flourishing of every individual in it. It's the individual that's finished. It's the single, solitary human being who's finished. It's every single one of you out there who's finished. Because this is no longer a nation of independent individuals. This is a nation of two hundred odd million transistorized, deodorized, whiter- than-white, steel-belted bodies, totally unnecessary as human beings and as replaceable as piston rods --

NARRATOR It was a perfectly admissible argument that Howard Beale advanced in the days that followed; it was, however, also a very tedious and depressing one. By the end of the first week in June --

NARRATOR -- the Howard Beale show had dropped one point in the ratings, and its trend of shares dipped under forty- eight for the first time since last November --

MAX moves into the living room as DIANA's VOICE eruptsshrilly from the bedroom --

DIANA (O.S.) -- You're his goddam agent, Lew!, I'm counting on you to talk some sense into the lunatic!

155. INT. DIANA'S BEDROOM

DIANA perched on her bed, shrilling into the telephone --

DIANA We're starting to get rumbles from the agencies. Another couple of weeks of this, and the sponsors will be bailing out! ... This is breach of contract, Lew! This isn't the Howard Beale we signed. You better get him off this corporate universe kick or, so help me, I'll pull him off the air! ... I told him, Lew! I've been telling him every day for a week! I'm sick of telling him! Now, you tell him!

She slams the receiver down, sits in silent rage on thebed, turns up the volume on her remote control unit.HOWARD'S VOICE suddenly emanates from the television setacross the room from her --

HOWARD (ON TV) -- Well, the time has come to say: is dehumanization such a bad word? Because good or bad, that's what's so. The whole world is becoming humanoid, creatures that look human but aren't. The whole world, not just us. We're just the most advanced country, so we're getting there first --

DIANA reaches for the phone again, dials briskly. She looksup to note MAX regarding her from the doorway. She regardshim sullenly. They are both clearly in foul tempers.

HOWARD (ON TV) -- The whole world's people are becoming mass-produced, programmed, wired, insensate things useful only to produce and consume other mass-produced things, all of them as unnecessary and useless as we are --

MAX I'm sorry I'm late --

They exchange dully sullen looks. MAX turns back into --

156. INT. THE LIVING ROOM

-- where he sprawls morosely on one of the soft chairs --

HOWARD (ON TV O.S.) -- that's the simple truth you have to grasp, that human existence is an utterly futile and purposeless thing --

DIANA (on phone) Listen, I had another howling session with Howard Beale today, and he's impenetrable. We better start shoring up the dykes --

HOWARD (ON TV) -- We are right now living in what has to be called a corporate society, a corporate world, a corporate universe. This world quite simply is a vast cosmology of small corporations orbiting around larger corporations who, in turn, revolve around giant corporations --

DIANA (stares at set, mutters) Jesus Christ --

HOWARD (ON TV) -- and this whole, endless, ultimate cosmology is expressly designed for the production and consumption of useless things --

DIANA clicks the remote control thing, and the TV setgoes black.

DIANA (on phone) Let's start looking around for possible replacements. I hear ABC's grooming a mad prophet of their own in Chicago as our com- petition for next season. See if you can get a tape on him. Maybe we can steal him. And let's start building up the other segments on the show. Sybil the Soothsayer, Jim Webbing. The Vox Populi segment is catching on; let's make that a daily feature --

159. INT. THE LIVING ROOM

MAX sprawled on the soft chair. We notice that, in theback of the living room, a bridge table has been set upas a makeshift desk. It has a typewriter on it and awelter of papers and books and filing folders. DIANAappears in the bedroom doorway, regards MAX coldly --

DIANA You know, you could help me out with Howard if you wanted to. He listens to you. You're his best friend --

MAX (exploding off the chair) I'm tired of this hysteria about Howard Beale!

DIANA (erupting herself) Every time you see somebody in your family, you come back in one of these morbid middle-aged moods!

MAX (raging around the room) And I'm tired of finding you on the goddamned phone every time I turn around! I'm tired of being an accessory in your life!

He finds himself by the upstage typewriter, which hesweeps crashing off the bridge table, sending thewelter of papers there flying off in a storm --

MAX -- and I'm tired of pretending to write this dumb book about my maverick days in those great early years of television! Every execu- tive fired from a network in the last twenty years has written this dumb book about the great early days But don't worry about me. I'll manage. I always have, always will. I'm more concerned about you. Once I go, you'll be back in the eye of your own desolate terrors. Fifty dollar studs and the nightly sleepless contemplation of suicide. You're not the boozer type, so I figure a year, maybe two before you crack up or jump out your fourteenth floor office window.

DIANA (stands) Stop selling, Max. I don't need you.

She exits out into --

166. INT. THE LIVING ROOM

-- and across that to the --

167. INT. THE KITCHEN

-- where a kettle is steaming. She fetches a cup andsaucer from the cupboard and would make some instantcoffee but she is overtaken by a curious little spasm.Her hand holding the cup and saucer is shaking so muchshe has to put them down. With visible effort, shepulls herself together. She moves out of the kitchen tothe --

168. INT. THE LIVING ROOM

-- where she stands in the middle of the room andshouts at MAX through the opened bedroom doorway.

MAX You need me badly! I'm your last contact with human reality! I love you, and that painful, decaying menopausal love is the only thing between you and the shrieking nothingness you live the rest of the day!

He slams the valise shut.

DIANA Then don't leave me!

MAX It's too late, Diana! There's nothing left in you that I can live with! You're one of Howard's humanoids, and, if I stay with you, I'll be destroyed! Like Howard Beale was destroyed! Like Laureen Hobbs was destroyed! Like everything you and the institution of television touch is destroyed! You are television incarnate, Diana, indifferent to suffering, insensitive to joy. All of life is reduced to the common rubble of banality. War, murder, death are all the same to you as bottles of beer. The daily business of life is a corrupt comedy. You even shatter the sensations of time and space into split-seconds and instant replays. You are madness, Diana, virulent madness, and everything you touch dies with you. Well, not me! Not while I can still feel pleasure and pain and love!

He turns back to his valise and buckles it. DIANA findsa chair, sits in it. A moment later, MAX comes out ofthe bedroom, lugging a raincoat as well as the valise.He lugs his way across the living room, then pauses fora moment, reflects --

MAX It's a happy ending, Diana. Wayward husband comes to his senses, returns to his wife with whom he has built a long and sustaining love. Heartless young woman left alone in her arctic desolation. Music up with a swell. Final commercial. And here are a few scenes from next week's show.

He disappears down the foyer. We can hear the CLICKof the front door being opened and the CLACK of thedoor closing. DIANA sits in her chair, pulling theshower robe around her, alone in her arctic desolation.

A solemn FRANK HACKETT in blue suit walks down the long,empty, hushed corridor to the large double doors of hisoffice (which had originally been EDWARD RUDDY's office).At the doors, NELSON CHANEY is waiting for him.

CHANEY How'd it go?

HACKETT sighs, enters --

170. INT. SECRETARY'S OFFICE

-- where HERB THACKERAY and JOE DONNELLY are lounging.Everybody follows HACKETT into --

171. INT. HACKETT'S OFFICE (ONCE RUDDY'S OFFICE)

Nighttime outside, the crepuscular grandeur ofManhattan glittering below us. Waiting in the office,seated here and there, are WALTER AMUNDSEN and DIANA.HACKETT sits behind his desk. The others all findplaces around the room.

HACKETT Mr. Jensen was unhappy at the idea of taking Howard Beale off the air. Mr. Jensen thinks Howard Beale is bringing a very important message to the American people, so he wants Howard Beale on the air. And he wants him kept on.

Nobody has anything to say to this.

HACKETT Mr. Jensen feels we are being too catastrophic in our thinking. I argued that television was a volatile industry in which success and failure were determined week by week. Mr. Jensen said he did not like volatile industries and suggested with a certain sinister silkiness that volatility in business usually reflected bad management. He didn't really care if Howard Beale was the number one show in television or the fiftieth. He didn't really care if the Beale Show lost money. The network should be stabilized so that it can carry a losing show and still maintain an overall profit. Mr. Jensen has an important message he wants conveyed to the American people, and Howard Beale is conveying it. He wants Howard Beale on the air, and he wants him kept on. I would describe his position on this as inflexible. Where does that put us, Diana?

DIANA (taking papers out of her attache case) That puts us in the shithouse, that's where that puts us. (holds up her sheaf of papers) Do you want me to go through this?

HACKETT Yes

DIANA I have an advance TVQ report here. The Beale show Q score, which was forty-seven in the May book, is down to thirty-three and falling. Most of this loss occurred in the child and teen and eighteen-thirty-four categories, which were our core markets. NBC Nightly News, by contrast, has gone up to a twenty-nine Q, and, at this rate, will pass us by the end of July. Everybody here knows the Neilsen and share-trend scores. Let me just capsulate our own AR demographic reports which have been extensive. It is the AR department's carefully considered judgment -- and mine -- that if we get rid of Beale, we should be able to maintain a very respectable share in the high twenties, possibly thirty, with a comparable Q level. The other segments on the Beale show -- Sybil the Soothsayer, Jim Webbing, the Vox Populi -- have all developed their own audiences. Our AR reports show without exception that it is Howard Beale that's the destructive force here. Minimally, we are talking about a ten point differential in shares. I think Joe ought to spell it out for us. Joe?

DONNELLY A twenty-eight share is eighty- thousand dollar minutes, and I think we could sell complete positions on the whole. As a matter of fact, we're just getting into the pre-Christmas gift-sellers, and I'll tell you the agencies are coming back to me with four dollar CPMs. If that's any indication, we're talking forty, forty-five million dollar loss in annual revenues.

THACKERAY You guys want to hear all the flak I'm getting from the affiliates?

HACKETT We know all about it, Herb.

AMUNDSEN And you would describe Mr. Jensen's position on Beale as inflexible?

HACKETT Intractable and adamantine.

CHANEY So what're we going to do about this Beale son of a bitch?

A sad silence settles over the top management of UBS-TVas they lounge about the enormous room.

HACKETT (sighs) I suppose we'll have to kill him.

Another long contemplative silence.

HACKETT I don't suppose you have any ideas on that, Diana.

DIANA Well, what would you fellows say to an assassination? --

172. INT. THE LOBBY - UBS BUILDING - A FEW DAYS LATER - 6:00 P.M.

Bustling and crowded. Long lines of PEOPLE, fourabreast, roped off and waiting to get into the HOWARDBEALE show. Uniformed USHERS here and there,occasionally chatting with the waiting CROWD. OVERTHIS, the VOICES of the network meeting just interruptedCONTINUE:

DIANA'S VOICE

-- I think I can get the Mao Tse Tung people to kill Beale for us. As one of their programs. In fact, it'll make a hell of a kick- off show for the season. We're facing heavy opposition from the other networks on Wednesday nights, and the Mao Tse Tung Hour could use a sensational show for an opener. The whole thing would be done right on camera in the studio. We ought to get a fantastic look-in audience with the assassination of Howard Beale as our opening show --

173. INT. THE LOBBY - UBS BUILDING - ELEVATOR AREA

-- as the waiting AUDIENCE is herded into the elevators.OVER THIS, the VOICES of the meeting CONTINUE:

AMUNDSEN'S VOICE Well, if Beale dies, what would be our continuing obligation to the Beale corporation? I know our contract with Beale contains a buy- out clause triggered by his death or incapacity --

174. INT. UBS BUILDING - FOURTH FLOOR

-- as the elevator load of AUDIENCE is led out of theelevator and down the long, carpeted corridors, pastthe large wall photographs of TV stars, glass-enclosedcontrol rooms, and other showpieces of the network'selectronic glory. OVER THIS, the VOICES CONTINUE:

HACKETT'S VOICE There must be a formula for the computation of the purchase price.

AMUNDSEN'S VOICE Offhand, I think it was based on a multiple of 1975 earnings with the base period in 1975. I think it was fifty percent of salary plus twenty-five percent of the first year's profits --

175. INT. HACKETT'S OFFICE

The meeting is still going on --

AMUNDSEN (continuing above speech) -- multiplied by the unexpired portion of the contract. I don't think the show has any substantial syndication value, would you say, Diana?

DIANA Syndication profits are minimal.

176. INT. THE BEALE SHOW STUDIO AND AUDIENCE AREA

The new load of AUDIENCE finds seats in the rapidly-filling auditorium. On the floor of the studio, theCREW is setting the cameras, checking the booms. Thestage curtain is down. OVER THIS, the VOICES of themeeting CONTINUE:

CHANEY'S VOICE We're talking about a capital crime here, so the network can't be implicated.

AMUNDSEN'S VOICE (chuckling) I hope you don't have any hidden tape machines in this office, Frank --

177. INT. THE BEALE SHOW STUDIO - SHOWTIME

The warm-up is over; the stage footlights are on; theAUDIENCE sits expectantly. The big wall CLOCK shows:6:29, clicks to 6:30. On the studio stage, theANNOUNCER strides out from the wings, bellows happilyat the audience

ANNOUNCER Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it -- how do you feel?

178. REVERSE SHOT of the AUDIENCE. Suddenly SPOT the GREATAHMED KHAN and some of his FOLLOWERS, right in themiddle, happily joining all the others in their communalresponse:

AUDIENCE AND THE KHAN We're mad as hell, and we're not going to take this any more!

179. -- as the HOUSE LIGHTS go to BLACK. The curtain slowlyrises. The bare stage, the stained glass window, thecelestial SHAFT of light. HOWARD BEALE, in his blacksuit and tie, strides on from the wings, stands baskingin the SPOTLIGHT. APPLAUSE UP.

180. INT. HACKETT'S OFFICE

The meeting is still going on.

HACKETT Well, the issue is: shall we kill Howard Beale or not. I'd like to hear some more opinions on that --

DIANA I don't see we have any option, Frank. Let's kill the son of a bitch.

181. INT. THE BEALE STUDIO

The APPLAUSE for HOWARD BEALE has died. HUSH --suddenly, the HUSH is shattered by a HORRENDOUSENFILADE of GUNFIRE. An embroidery of red bulletholes perforate HOWARD'S shirt and jacket, and wemight even see the impact of a head wound as hepitches backwards dead.

182. A BANK OF FOUR COLOR TELEVISION MONITORS

It is 7:14 P.M., WEDNESDAY, July 9, 1975, and weare watching the network news programs on CBS, NBC,ABC and UBS-TV. The AUDIO is ON: head shots ofWALTER CRONKITE, JOHN CHANCELLOR, HOWARD K. SMITH,HARRY REASONER, and JACK SNOWDEN, substituting forHOWARD BEALE, interspersed with tapes of the horriblehappening at UBS the day before, flit and flickeracross the four television screens. Televisioncontinues relentlessly on.

NARRATOR (OVER) This was the story of Howard Beale who was the network news anchorman on UBS-TV, the first known instance of a man being killed because he had lousy ratings.